


Reformed

by alluruh



Category: Tales of Symphonia
Genre: Bodyswap, Gen, Personality Swap, Spoilers, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-02-13 05:51:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2139462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alluruh/pseuds/alluruh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was Lloyd. Lloyd was the wielder of the Eternal Sword. He must have done something to cause this. The Eternal Sword would do anything in its power to grant its wielder's wishes, but the knowledge of that gave rise to too many questions about Lloyd's desires.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**A** s the Eternal Sword acted on its command, the world was engulfed in a blinding light.  However, the flash lasted only briefly, and upon dimming down, the sword faded away.  The landscape looked exactly the same around the destroyed Tower of Salvation, and the Heroes of Regeneration took in the familiar surroundings with uncertainty.

The group stood in a wide, mangled arc, looking around at their surroundings.  "Did…did it work?" Sheena asked tentatively, her face scrunched up in confusion as her eyes darted around, searching for an indication that Sylvarant and Tethe'alla had finally been reunited.  "Nothing's changed…"

"The tower was at the poles of both worlds," Raine stated with authority, an aura of calm around her.  "It's to be expected that this area wouldn't have changed upon being reformed."

"Yeah, that's right," Lloyd said, panting heavily.  His newly formed wings were still out, and he hovered a few inches above the air.  He seemed to be paying more attention to the giant blue wings behind him than the world he had created.  "Colette, how do you even put these things away?"

The girl in question giggled.  "Just think about it!  It's easy."  She smiled reassuringly at her friend.

"Okay," Lloyd said, his voice lacking confidence for what seemed to be the first time in his life.  "I'll try."  He closed his eyes tightly, and soon, the wings flickered away.  Dropping to the ground with a " _Humph_!" Lloyd finally got a chance to take a look around.  "You were right, Sheena.  Everything's the same."

"I guess we'll have to check out more of our new world!" Genis said, eyes filled with youthful excitement.  "It's gotta be completely different now."

"This is our world now," Presea mused.  "The people will be distraught."

"I suppose it will be our responsibility to bear," Regal agreed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.  "They will need guidance and assistance into the world in which we have thrust them."

"Well, we aren't going to accomplish anything by just standing here," Lloyd said, his expression shifting rapidly to the familiar determination to which his friends were so accustomed.  "Let's go see our new world!"

The nine heroes began to walk toward the end of the Holy Ground of Kharlan, where they would find a clearing large enough to pull out their Rheairds.  As they approached, however, the ground began to lightly rumble.

"A side-effect of the reuniting of the worlds?" Raine guessed.  "After four thousand years of separation, it wouldn't be a surprise."  Even as she said it, the quake grew in magnitude, and half of the group was knocked to the ground by the sheer force of it, while the others were forced to take a knee.

"This sure is some funky earthquake!" Zelos yelled frantically over the din of rock scraping against rock.

Debris began to fall from higher ground and into the clearing, and as they all scrambled to escape from larger pieces of rock, Regal was caught underneath a medium-sized boulder.  Zelos let out a yelp upon noticing that the lumbering man had been knocked out.  Raine attempted to stand despite the trembling at her feet, as she knew she was one of the few who could heal him.  But her efforts were for naught, and as the strain wore her down, she found she could no longer hold herself up.  She lacked the physical strength to hold herself up as the ground shook her, pulling her toward its pitiless embrace.  Lloyd looked on desperately from where he was kneeling, watching as his professor closed her eyes slowly and allowed her muscles to go limp.

"Raine!" Genis cried, terror evident on his features.

"Wh-what's going on?" Lloyd shouted, struggling to move closer to his friends.  He trained his gaze on each of his friends, watching in horror as, one by one, their muscles gave out, and they fell to the ground.  Fortunately, most of them were still conscious, but he was worried about what was to come.  If the earthquake didn't subside soon, they would lose all will to stay awake, himself included.  He was amazed that he had somehow found the strength to keep moving, slowly inching toward the person nearest to him: Genis.

The boy was on the ground, struggling to keep himself up, but Lloyd could tell that he was nearly spent.  Genis looked up to see Lloyd inching toward him, and the swordsman was startled by the boy's pale face.  They exchanged weak smiles before Genis's arms gave out, and he fell to the ground, eyes closed and face relaxed.

"It appears to be a trap," Kratos seemed to shout, but over the roar of the quake, Lloyd could barely hear it.  In fact, Lloyd could barely hear anything, as if the tremors were deafening him.  Exhaustion swept through him, clouding his vision even as tiny black dots began to swim in front of his eyes.

"There's…" Lloyd grunted, his arms shaking from the effort it took him to hold himself up.  "This isn't a normal earthquake!"  As the earthquake became more enraged, it took all his effort to stay up.  With great effort, he looked around at his friends.  Most of them had succumbed to the earthquake's throes, though somehow, he and Kratos had somehow managed to stay conscious despite it all.  Presea, too, seemed to be awake, though the struggle to stay that way was painfully evident.

"Lloyd!" Kratos called, but the rest of the angel's words was lost to Lloyd, as the roaring clamor of the strange earthquake had wracked his ears and left him hearing nothing but a dull roar, echoing within the hollows of his mind.  It sounded as if he were at a beach, listening to conch shells, rather than in the middle of a powerful earthquake that threatened the lives of his friends.

The black dots swam faster and grew, leaving him with spotted and graying vision through which he could no longer decipher the objects around him.  The trembling had numbed his arms, and without clear vision, he could not tell if he was still holding himself up.  Perhaps it would be better if he just lay down, give out and give in to the supernatural tremor.  One could only fight its might for so long, Lloyd supposed.

His clouded vision left him barely capable of registering a boulder that threatened to crush him on its way down from higher ground.  With the last of his strength, he managed to jerk out of the way, and he was safely out of danger, with only his foot caught under the large rock.  His sapped strength and his numbed limbs were incapable of freeing himself, and he realized he was stuck.

As he accepted the truth of the reality with which he was faced, he felt a small part of him slip away, trickling out into oblivion.  Soon enough, the rest of him followed, and his world went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A re-write of an old fic I had on fanfiction.net. The subsequent chapters will be longer, just after I finish the introduction. Thank you for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

**T** here was a softness underneath him, the likes of which Lloyd had never felt.  Thinking harder through the drowsiness of his mind, he thought that perhaps he had, actually, once or twice, but the memory of such comfort was vague and distant, and he decided that he preferred to simply revel in the luxury in which he found himself rather than to ponder useless recollection.

He discovered a pillow under his head, and he realized with delight that the soft object he had been lying on was a bed.  With that comforting knowledge, he rolled over to go back to sleep.  He deserved it, he thought, since he and all of his friends had just saved the world from Yggdrasill and Cruxis.

After settling down in his new position, something tickled his nose.  He shook his head to rid himself of the tickle, but his hair just ended up falling into his face.

No, that wasn't right.  He didn't have hair long enough or droopy enough to fall in his face.  And, he realized with a start, he hadn't actually gone to sleep last night, and certainly not in a bed this luxurious.  The last thing he remembered before this was…that earthquake.  The quake had come and worn all of his friends out, and then they had passed out.  Then, that rock came and trapped his foot, and he went unconscious.  So why had he woken up in this bed?  How did he get here?  Who had saved him?

His eyes snapped open suddenly, and they were flooded with a bright red.  Taken aback, he panicked for a moment before his clouded mind cleared and his eyes were able to see properly once more.  The red was…just hair, but the hair wasn't his.  With his unfamiliar hand shaking ever so slightly, he reached up and gently tugged on the hair.  It was attached to his head, much to his horror.  With that scarring knowledge, Lloyd bolted up in the bed, the long, red hair bouncing wildly around him.  That was _definitely_ not his hair.

Hesitant to confirm his terrifying suspicions, he decided to look at his surroundings.  The bed on which he was still seated had a lavender comforter on top of it, and a canopy attached to the base allowed delicate, sheer fabric to drape down off of it.  Light attempted to spill into the room from a large bay window at the back of the room, but thick curtains covered most of the glass, diluting the daylight and keeping the large bedroom dark.  The unnerving atmosphere of the room reeked with the scent of the upper class, and each chair and table littering the room looked as if they were unused but often cleaned.  He had yet to work up the nerve necessary to stand up and find a mirror, and so he looked himself over, desperate for a semblance of normalcy.  Upon looking down, he found himself shirtless, with only white cotton pants clothing him.  His body—should he even consider this _his_ body—looked completely fake.  This wasn't his.  Not the hair, nor the body or the toned abs or the room.

But he couldn't admit it to himself.  It was crazy to think this could be anything other than his.  Maybe he was dreaming, or—or something.  But this wasn't real.  He knew what was real, and there was no way this could be.  There were too many holes, too many details missing for him to believe any of this.

To prove to himself that he was stupid for ever thinking he was actually awake, he stood up.  The hard, wood flooring felt all too real under his bare feet.  There was no mirror in the room, but a glass case, containing several knickknacks of various expenses, sat on the opposite end of the room.  He rushed to look in the glass, stumbling and tripping over himself.  He seemed taller than he was used to, and as a result, he was incredibly off balance.  Upon recovering, he took a deep breath and stared straight into the glass.  The faint reflection of his face stared back at him, but he clenched his fists at it.  The face wasn't his, either.  He had seen the face stare back at him many times before, but this was the first time he had been forced to call the face "his".  Lloyd stumbled back, falling into the loveseat near the glass case as his knees gave out.  Of course, it was all a dream, but he had still never expected to see Zelos's face staring at him in the makeshift mirror.

He heard a knock on the bedroom door, and a muffled voice called to an absent person.  "Master Zelos, are you awake?"

It was Sebastian, but Lloyd couldn't find it in him to respond to the call.  In the dream, Lloyd may have _looked_ like his friend, but there was no way he actually _was_ the former Chosen.  While he comforted himself with the thoughts, a silent voice in the back of his mind reminded him of how real the situation felt, and how terrified he was of that feeling.

"Master Zelos?" Sebastian called again, and this time, the sound of the doorknob rattling slightly came with the butler's voice.  Lloyd didn't move.  He couldn't move.  His body felt numb, his world crashing down into him even as he desperately tried to convince himself that he was imagining the entire scenario.

The door opened and Sebastian spotted him, but Lloyd simply stared blankly at the wall.  "Master Zelos, are you all right?" When Lloyd didn't respond, the butler rushed to him and helped him up.  "Come to your bed, sir."  The voice was soothing, and his limp body followed the commands Sebastian gave him, but his mind was awash in terror and confusion.

As the comforting hands of Zelos's butler lifted him from the loveseat and walked him toward the plush bed, Lloyd tried to recover from his stupor, reaching out into the world around him and finding some ounce of reality onto which he could cling.  The butler sat him down onto the large bed, and Lloyd looked up at him.

"I-I'm sorry," he tried, though it came out broken, and Lloyd flinched at the voice that did not belong to him, but came out of his mouth anyways.

"Are you feeling ill, sir?" Sebastian asked, concern etched into every wrinkle on his aging face.

"I don't think that's the word," Lloyd mumbled, looking away from the other man.  He stared down at the hands on this body, noticing every detail that differed from his own hands.  There was no callousness, no roughness to them that indicated that he had worked a day in his life.  They were as soft as the bed, with perfectly manicured fingers and an innate grace to them which his own hands lacked.

"Sir?" Sebastian called, pulling Lloyd from his reverie.  When Lloyd jerked and glanced back to the other, Sebastian continued.  "You need to be prepared by noon.  Your meeting with the King cannot be delayed."

"Uh, right," Lloyd answered gracelessly.  "I'll be ready by then."

Sebastian didn't speak for a moment, instead staring at Lloyd curiously, as if looking straight past the body of Zelos and directly at Lloyd, himself.  "Very well, then," the butler conceded, standing to leave the room and to allow Lloyd his privacy.  "If you need anything, I will be in the kitchen, preparing your breakfast.  Do try to be on time, sir."  With a bow, Sebastian turned and left Lloyd alone with his thoughts.

But this was just a dream, right?  How does one wake themselves up?  He pinched himself, and instead of bolting upright safely inside his own tiny wooden house, Lloyd merely let out a pained yelp.  Thinking on his feet, he slapped himself a few times, hoping that, through pain, he would wake up from this nightmare.  But as he kept finding more creative ways of waking himself up, he grew discouraged, and the tiny voice of reason within him grew stronger, forcing him to face the facts that were laid out in front of him.  As he slumped back onto Zelos's bed, Lloyd acknowledged this reality and the repercussions that came with it.

Somehow, someway, Lloyd had switched bodies with Zelos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to update this last week. Oops, I forgot. Anyways, the next chapter should be posted next Wednesday (3 September). It is much longer than this one and the first chapter. I hope everyone will enjoy that!


	3. Chapter 3

**A** n incessant chirping in the distance woke Kratos up.  Disgusted with the bird's irritating song, he rolled over in the bed, hoping to escape the noise.  He rolled too far, however, and soon, his body landed in a heap on the floor, entwined with thin blankets and pillows.

He groaned miserably, holding his hand against his aching head, which had slammed into the wooden floor.  He coddled the wound briefly, clenching his teeth against the pain.  Pain?  Yes, it was definitely pain.  He had experienced the sensation only trivially since he had undergone the angel transformation, but he remembered it from those four thousand years ago, when he had still been human and had frequently found himself on the receiving end.

That he currently felt pain…was odd, to say the least.  An angel such as himself should not feel actual pain, except under extreme circumstances.  And yet, here he found himself, cradling a minor headache as he attempted to untangle himself from the linen.

As he was, he could not see anything through the off-white sheets that surrounded him, and he thrashed at them, pulling them from his face.  After accomplishing the simple task, he noticed that he was in a room completely unfamiliar to him.  It was small and wooden, with plants scattered across the room, the vines growing wildly against the paneling and, across the room, out of an opening in the wall that served as a window.  A small breeze blew through it, rustling the leaves on the vines and creating a pleasant aroma.  Such an earthen scent could only be brought about by the dwarves, Kratos reasoned, and he only knew of one dwarf that lived above the surface.

But why was he in Dirk's house?  It was illogical for him to simply wake up here; he had not been even near the Iselia region, according to his last memories.  He had, instead, been at the Tower of Salvation.  But that earthquake…

If even his son could recognize the peculiarity of that quake, then it was certainly something worth noting.  It had presented compelling strength, which had forced even the physically strongest among the group to take a knee, and it had sapped his and the others' strength through a powerful, supernatural force.  He had fallen victim to its force through no will of his own, and he remembered all too well the roar of the tremors that had deafened him and the shaking which had left his vision swimming in darkness.  No typical earthquake would cause such a strange reaction, and none would last longer than his angelic strength would keep himself awake.  It had been an unnatural essence, which had pulled him down and left him weak and barely cognizant, fighting feebly to retain himself even as he felt himself slipping, leaving his own mind.  It had been an unsettling sensation, the likes of which he had never felt before.  And as the last of his resilience left him, he had fallen unconscious amidst the tremors.

That had been his final memory before waking in the home of Lloyd's adoptive father.  Pondering the strange situation he was in, Kratos untangled himself from the sheets and placed them back on the bed.  Pulling his hands out of the mass of white cotton, he noticed that the hands did not look like his own, and he frowned.  "What…?" he murmured to himself, and his eyes widened when he heard the striking difference between what he had expected to sound like and what he actually heard.  The voice that had come out of his mouth sounded youthful and devoid of experience, so much different from the time-hardened sound he had grown accustomed to through his many years of life.

This voice…he knew it.  He knew it so painfully well, but he was disbelieving.  No power in the worlds could do something like this.  Nothing could bend reality and perform such mystical and illogical feats.

The answer he was seeking hit him, winding him as if he had just been training for hours on end.  Still kneeling against the bed, he held onto the wooden posts for support.  There was exactly one power in the world which could do just that, and he had personal experience with it.  He had been its seal, its guardian, for thousands of years.  Origin, and the Eternal Sword.

Lloyd was the wielder of the Eternal Sword.  He must have done something to cause this.  The Eternal Sword would do anything in its power to grant its wielder's wishes, but the knowledge of that gave rise to too many questions about Lloyd's desires.  Something must have gone wrong in the way that Lloyd conveyed his command to the sword, or perhaps Origin misinterpreted the request.  It was the only way something like this could have happened.  Only Origin could perform a feat as fantastic as this.  And as it was, until he could find a Rheaird and make his way back to the Torrent Forest, or find the Eternal Sword along his way, there was nothing he could do about his situation.

"Lloyd!  You're going to be late again!"  The muffled, gruff voice of Dirk floated upwards until the words hit Kratos, and he shot up, startled.  What was he going to be late for?

"Uh, I'm coming!" Kratos called back, hurrying to stand and look for products with which he could freshen himself up.  He was impelled, for an unknown reason, to act as if everything were normal, as if he were not a four thousand-year-old man encased within the appearance of a seventeen-year-old boy.

There was a wad of clothing on the other side of the room, draped unceremoniously over bright red boots.  There appeared to be no indication of a closet or armoire in Lloyd's home, and so Kratos walked toward the bundle.  It was unsettling to see everything around him at such a low angle, and he felt severely off-balance.  His movements felt to him sluggish and his eyesight poor, and he felt nearly deaf at what he found he could no longer hear, even when straining.  What a strange phenomenon, to be human once again.

"What a strange phenomenon," Kratos muttered under his breath, wrinkling his nose at the tenor voice that now belonged to him, "to become your own son."

Kratos hurriedly pulled on the ostentatious jacket that Lloyd insisted on wearing, and as he buttoned the garment, he wondered just why there were so many buttons that seemingly had no purpose.  The pants that Kratos had woken up in were the very pants that Lloyd wore on a regular basis, leading him to believe his son didn't actually have a proper wardrobe.  Nonetheless, he tucked the wrinkled pants into Lloyd's heavy red boots and attached the crude brown suspenders to the waistband.  He realized now just how large the pants were, as they kept slipping down his hips.  Kratos questioned why Lloyd didn't just obtain pants that fit him, but he shrugged off the question, knowing he might never get an answer for it.

His son's spiky hair seemed to have been in place since the moment he woke up, but Kratos ran his fingers through it, hoping to create a perfect resemblance of the hairstyle.  It was difficult, however, seeing as he did not have a mirror through which he could gauge his accuracy.

Deciding his attempts as close to perfection as he could manage, he took a deep breath and made his way to the staircase on the far side of the room.  Dirk was downstairs; that much he knew.  Kratos had never been comfortable around the dwarf that had raised his son, as it always resurfaced his carefully masked regret.  But he had to face Dirk if he wanted to return to his own body.  And, Kratos admitted only to himself, he was feeling quite hungry.  He took in another breath, and this time, he smelled a delicious meal waiting for him on the floor below.  Groaning almost inaudibly at the empty feeling in his stomach and the tempting food awaiting him, he forced his feelings for the dwarf down and started down the creaky stairs, his mouth watering more and more as he neared the table.

"Took you long enough," Dirk snorted, not turning to face Kratos.  He was at the base of the staircase, crafting something over his stove.  "Your food's going to get cold."

To Kratos's gurgling stomach, the thought of a cold breakfast seemed to be the worst thing imaginable, and so he hurried down the remaining steps and sat down on a stool.  The plate in front of him was piled high in various meats and grains, and Kratos did not think twice about grabbing a roll of bread and shoving it into his mouth.  The taste was heavenly, and he savored the flavor as he chewed.  The sense of taste was certainly something he had missed about humanity, and he thanked whatever force that had put him in this situation, forgetting briefly the circumstances around it.

"You'd best be hurrying."  Dirk's thick accent cut through Kratos's stupor.  "You'll have to ride Noishe to town again if you keep eating so slowly."

"To town?" Kratos asked through bites of the unlabeled meat.  It tasted familiar, but four thousand years had worn down his memory of the flavor.

"It's the day of the oracle, son," Dirk reminded him, finally turning around to face who he thought to be his adopted son.  "Don't tell me you forgot?"  He raised an eyebrow, clearly exasperated that his alleged son would have forgotten such an important day.

The day of the oracle?  If that were true, then…then the Eternal Sword's power was truly great.  To send a large number of people through time, all because of miscommunication, was an impressive feat.  Kratos quickly swallowed the large amount of food in his mouth and stared at Dirk, trying to think of a response that his outspoken son would say to his adoptive father.

"I didn't forget," Kratos started, the lie flowing from his mouth as naturally as he took a breath in.  "I was just wondering why I had to leave so early."

"We don't know when the oracle will arrive, so it's best to get to town as soon as possible," Dirk explained.  "You wanted to see it, didn't you?"

"Uh, yeah, I did say that," Kratos responded gracelessly.  "Then, I should be off."  Kratos stood from the table and started toward the door.  To act as someone else under the scrutiny of the person who knew Lloyd more than anyone was difficult, and Kratos did not want to give rise to any suspicion until he could rectify the situation he was in.  "Goodbye, Dad!"  The words were awkward and forced, and the sound of Lloyd's voice saying those words to Dirk pierced Kratos more than anyone else knew, but he was compelled to say them, if only to seem as natural as possible.

As Kratos closed the door behind him, he wondered if the others who had been caught in the earthquake had been affected in a similar way.  It was only logical, considering that if he were in the place of Lloyd, then his son, at the very least, had to have taken his place.

Immediately disgusted by the very thought, Kratos shoved from his mind the idea of Lloyd inhabiting his body.  He instead focused on getting through the forest without having to fight any monsters.  While he didn't doubt his skills with a sword, the human body was simply not as strong or fast as one lacking a Cruxis Crystal, even if Lloyd possessed Anna's Exsphere.  And furthermore, the swords he had attached on his hips were merely wooden, and Kratos doubted he could do any serious damage to any threat he came across.

Lloyd had told him, when he had been traveling under the guise of a mercenary, that he fought with two swords so that he could do twice as much damage, citing a simple math equation as evidence.  Resting a hand on the hand of one of the twin swords, Kratos mimicked the heavy sigh with which he had responded to Lloyd so long ago.

~*~

It was not certain if Regal had ever woken up, or if he had even been unconscious beforehand.  But he suddenly became aware of a completely different reality around him, which varied incredibly from the forest clearing in which he had been what seemed only moments before.  In the place of wood and grass, dirt and rock, four walls surrounded him that were made entirely out of a metal unknown to him.  A faint buzzing sound came from all directions, humming through the walls and into the enclosed space.  The room, itself, was furnished with a simple, neatly made bed, dressed in impeccable white sheets and topped with a single pillow.  A metal table sat next to the bed, and resting on top of it was a tiny drawing of a woman he had never seen.  The largest object in the room was the armoire on the opposite end of what Regal had deciphered to be a bedroom.  Other than the three objects, the room was barren.  Regal scanned the room, looking for a doorway of some sort.  The room had more detail than he had ever seen before, and he thought it strange that such a simple room would be so detailed.  The threads on the sheets were as clearly visible as the light scratches, no more than hair's width, lining the armoire.  Perhaps, Regal thought, he was simply imagining the immense detail that he suddenly found easily discernible.  Unless he were close to the objects, there would be no way to see such fine detail.

Choosing to focus instead on leaving the room so that he may explore his surroundings, Regal turned to where he thought he saw a door.  A thick mass of hair fell into his face, covering his left eye, and he was taken aback when he realized that the hair was not the cerulean he was used to, but rather a deep auburn.

He pushed the hair aside, but it fell back into his eyes.  Sighing, Regal parted the hair enough that he could see through it, and then he continued to the door, hoping that the answers to all of the many questions he had lay on the other side of the wall.  Approaching the metal, it recoiled into the wall with a _swoosh_ and created an entryway for him.  The world outside, unfortunately, was more concerning than the tiny metal bedroom had been.

A large dome covered the building, allowing into the large, open room the dim, magenta light produced by Derris-Kharlan.  Angels hovered in varying heights off of the pristine, metal flooring that matched the room in which he had found himself initially.  Regal heard every flap of the massive wings, a chorus loud enough to make him wince.  It was peculiar, he thought.  When he had last been in Welgaia, he had only been able to hear the wings that had been close to his companions and him.  But now the noise sounded thunderous, and Regal decided that he did not like that.

"Lord Kratos," a monotonous voice sounded from behind him.  It was the lifeless and dull speech only an angel could have.  Regal spun around to see the angel, and he found the blank-faced being staring directly at him, eyes clouded over and wings flapping lazily behind him.

"I am not…" Regal started, but the sound that came out of his mouth told him otherwise.  He opted to stay silent.

"Lord Yggdrasill requests your presence," the angel continued, as if Regal had not spoken.  Without pausing, the lifeless being turned and floated away.  Regal, not wishing to test the strange situation, followed behind.

The angel stopped at the warp pad that led to Vinheim, and Regal took that as his cue to go through it.  The warp stretched his body as if it were a jelly, but soon, he was solid and whole once again, standing in Yggdrasill's castle.

The villain, himself, was seated on a throne in front of him, and upon seeing Regal, his lips curled into a pleased smile that seemed out of place on his visage.  "Kratos," Yggdrasill called in an authoritative voice fit for a king.

Regal remained silent, hoping that he could leave with no repercussions.

"It is the day of the oracle, Kratos," Yggdrasill continued, and Regal eyed the angel curiously.  "You know what you must do.  Bring the Chosen to me; do not let her fail.  We cannot risk losing such a valuable vessel."  His eyes darted to Regal and narrowed.  Regal felt uncomfortable under the scrutiny, but he dared not act on the feeling.  "Protect her, and when she breaks all of the seals, our goals will finally be realized."

~*~

The long trek through the Iselia Forest came to a close as the trees finally began thinning, allowing Kratos to see the tiny village just on the horizon.  Hurrying to reach the town limits and to find Lloyd's friends, he broke into a sprint, and he found his son's speed disappointing at best.  By the time he reached the village, he was panting, and he had to pause to catch his breath.  Had humanity always been so weak?

Kratos quickly recovered and forced himself to breathe evenly.  Nodding politely to the guards that watched over the village, he continued into town, toward the Chosen's home.  It was the only building in Iselia with which he was comfortably familiar.

He knocked on the door and waited patiently for an answer.  Through the thin walls of the Chosen's home, there came the sound of footsteps hurriedly walking toward the door, and soon enough, Frank opened the door just a moment later.  The man was taller than Kratos remembered, but he assumed it was largely due to the five inches he, himself, had lost over night.

His confusion was evident in the way he immediately cocked his head to the side.  "Lloyd?  Why are you here?" the man asked, and Kratos scrambled to come up with a decent response.

"I was hoping to walk Colette to school," he lied smoothly, and Frank nodded.

"I'm afraid Colette has already left," Frank replied, pursing his lips.  "She was in a hurry this morning.  I believe she went to Genis's house."

"Very well," Kratos conceded, "Thank you."  He turned to leave, and he heard the scrappy wooden door scrape closed behind him.

Had he ever been to the Sages' home?  As he left the Chosen's doorstep, he tried to pinpoint where, exactly, the two half-elves lived inside the village.  He didn't dare ask directions; Lloyd would have known where his best friend lived.  He wandered around the town until he heard a group of children walking toward the schoolhouse.

He had been too late to find Lloyd's companions before the school day started, but perhaps, he could discuss the current events with them at school.  He followed behind the children, trying to force a smile whenever one of the younger kids greeted him.  It had been years since he had interacted with a child other than Genis, and he found it more difficult than he remembered.  Fortunately, he and the other children had reached the school, and as Kratos made his way through the threshold, he scanned the small crowd for the Chosen and her companions.

Surely enough, the three who appeared to be Raine, Genis, and the Chosen were all huddled near the front of the room, discussing something in hushed voices that Kratos knew he would have heard if he were still an angel.  Dismissing eavesdropping as an option, Kratos made his way to the group.  They heard him approaching and looked up, and Kratos noticed poorly masked concern in their eyes.  It seemed that they, too, had been affected by the Eternal Sword's power.

"…Lloyd?" asked the voice of the younger half-elf.  Kratos merely shook his head and moved closer to them so that he could partake in their conversation.

"I believe I know what has happened," whispered Kratos, and the others collectively breathed a sigh of relief.  "It must be the power of the Eternal Sword.  There is nothing else with such an ability to warp reality."

"You're saying Lloyd did it?"  The incredulous tone sounded off-beat coming from Raine's mouth, but Kratos reminded himself that it was not, in fact, Raine whom had said it.

"For all intents and purposes, yes, I am," Kratos responded simply.  "Now, shall we make our second introductions?  I was not present for the majority of your conversation."

The younger half-elf sighed, gesturing toward them in turn.  "I'm Raine.  That's Genis," she explained, pointing at the body of the elder half-elf, and then she motioned toward the small body of the Chosen, sighing deeply at whatever misfortune Kratos would soon have the displeasure of knowing.  "That…is Zelos."

Kratos eyed the man in question, and he could hardly imagine that the soul of Tethe'alla's somewhat questionable Chosen lay under the long blonde hair and blue eyes, the tiny frame clothed in priestess's robes, and the cherubic face that resembled Martel's so closely it had transported Kratos four thousand years into the past upon seeing it for the first time.

"You'd better not try anything funny," Genis warned, leaning down so as to meet Zelos eye-to-eye.  "If you do anything to Colette's body, I'll burn you to a crisp!"

Zelos merely rolled his eyes and planted a cocky smile on his face, an expression that looked so completely bizarre on Colette's face that Kratos found himself blinking disbelievingly.  "Don't worry!" he insisted, waving his hand nonchalantly.  "I'll return the little angel's body in pristine condition, I promise!"  For some reason, Kratos was doubtful.

"Yeah, sure," Genis said, turning away from Zelos.

"Don't ignore me!" Zelos demanded, placing his hands on the Chosen's hips.

"Keep your voice down!" Kratos warned.  The students paid no attention to their conversation, but soon, they would begin to settle down for the day, and they would certainly notice the discussion at the front of the room.

Zelos huffed and turned to face Kratos with a non-threatening glare.  "Well, mister know-it-all, why don't you tell us who _you_ really are?  It's gotta be good."

Kratos couldn't resist the urge to fidget under the scrutiny of the others.  Glancing to the side, he mumbled his name as quietly as he could manage.

"What was that?" Genis pressed, suddenly interested in what misfortune had befallen him.

"Kratos," he responded louder, refusing to meet their gazes.  There was a moment of silence, and then there was a single whoop of laughter.

"Oh, man!" Zelos cried, clutching his stomach as high-pitched, riotous laughter rang through Kratos's ears.  For the first time since he'd become human, he was grateful that he did not have angelic hearing.  "You're Kratos?  That's even funnier than the brat turning into a woman!"

"Hey!" Genis interjected, but his amusement at Kratos's circumstances caused his irritation to fade away, dissolving into his own girlish snickers.

Kratos glared down at Tethe'alla's former Chosen, but he knew that the expression did not hold as much power behind it as it had when he had rightfully looked like himself.  "There is nothing _funny_ about the situation we are in," Kratos seethed, but neither Zelos nor Genis ceased in their laughter.  Even Raine was chuckling, and when Kratos turned to glare at her, she coughed into her hand to mask it.

"Oh, come on, Kratos," Genis said, trying desperately to stop laughing.  "You have seriously bad luck if you ended up in _Lloyd's_ body!"

"This entire scenario is laced with misfortune," Kratos agreed, but his scowl remained firmly in place on his features.  "Now, will you _children_ control yourselves so that we may figure out a plan to obtain the Eternal Sword and return everything to normal?"

"Uh, Kratos," Genis said, his face scrunching up in pleasure, which looked quite odd on Raine's face, "you're not exactly an adult anymore."  He no longer tried to cover up the enjoyment he got from this, and he freely snickered along with the other two.

Kratos glowered at Genis, unamused at the entire scene.  "I have four thousand _years_ more experience than any of you do, combined.  Let us cease this crude mockery, and we will be able to return to our true forms soon."

"You really are a crotchety old man, aren't you?" Zelos remarked, rolling his eyes.  "Doesn't even matter that you look like my bud."

"You know," Genis stated, eyebrows raised, "you saying all of this in Colette's voice is really weird."

"The two of you are very different," Raine mused.  "I agree that the disparity between you and Colette is very unsettling."

It was true, Kratos thought.  Though Kratos did not know much of Tethe'alla's Chosen, his boisterous personality spoke for itself, even to those who had only just met him.  "Nonetheless, we must continue in our current state until we are able to return to our own bodies.  It would be wise to fix our problems as soon as possible."

"I concur," Raine said, huffing a little, "I'm not eager to experience puberty yet again."  There was a short silence, after which Zelos snickered under his breath and Genis gaped in horror.  Raine merely rolled her eyes at the two, and Kratos chose to ignore them.  "Kratos, what do you propose we do?"

"We will need to acquire the Eternal Sword as quickly as we can," Kratos explained, calculating the plan as he spoke.  "However, our summoner is not present and will likely be untrained in summoning.  If your entire party has been affected by Origin's power, as I would suspect, then we will need to find the real Sheena and have her teach whoever has inherited her power."

"That sounds like a long process," Genis complained, jumping into the conversation.

"And what are we supposed to do about this whole back-in-time thing?" Zelos argued.  "If we're actually back in time, then what about all that saving the world crap we just went through?"

"We might need to do it again," Raine admitted.  "We know the outcome of our efforts, so if we cannot return the world to normal with the Eternal Sword, then we must retrace our steps and complete the worlds' regeneration on our own, once again."

"Whoa, whoa," Zelos interrupted, suddenly serious.  "Are you telling us that _I_ might have to go on the Journey of Regeneration?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Kratos confessed before turning back to Raine, unnerved that he was discussing how to save the world with a seemingly young boy.  "I understand what you're saying…Could there, perhaps, be a way to the Torrent Forest without necessarily repeating our journey in entire?"

Raine thought for a moment, trying to piece together the best course of action.  "We have to take into account many variables, such as acquiring the Aionis, or defeating Origin.  And even if we could manage that, whoever is currently inhabiting your body, Kratos, will need to be willing to possibly die for the cause, as they would need to release their mana in order to break the seal guarding Origin."

"Either way, it'll take a long time," Genis said, slumping over.  The proportions of Raine's body were not what he was used to, however, and he started to fall forward, just barely catching himself in time so as not to cause a disruption.  Zelos chuckled, and Genis glared at him.

"Sylvarant will not wait long enough for us to go through the process of releasing Origin," Kratos said, glancing back at the students in the classroom, who were all chattering mindlessly, still oblivious to the happenstances at the front of the schoolhouse.

"I'm not going to give my life up for this world," Zelos asserted, fuming as quietly as he could manage.

"Then what is it you plan to do, Chosen?" Kratos inquired pointedly, folding his arms across his chest.  "Let Sylvarant simply fall into ruin while we attempt a plan that might not work?  Would you doom all of Sylvarant and Tethe'alla for your own selfish desires?"

"I-I…"  Zelos's reaction was understandable, but he had lived as the Chosen.  He understood the responsibilities that came with the title, even though he had been privileged enough to live in the flourishing world.

"It is an unfair request," Raine muttered, "but nonetheless, until we are able to regain the Eternal Sword and rectify our situation, we must act as if there is nothing we can do except repeat our journey."

Genis shrugged.  "Technically, we don't even know if getting the sword back will fix anything.  You'd better not mess this up."  He glowered at Zelos, who seemed to have lost all will to fight back.  His face had paled, and the fear in his eyes was evident.  As Tethe'alla's Chosen, Zelos had really never been faced with the reality that he would need to sacrifice everything he had in order to save a world of which he would not be a part.

"Do not worry, Chosen," Kratos tried, attempting to comfort Zelos.  "If you and your companions were able to restore humanity to Colette, then I am certain that we will be able to do the same, should it be necessary."

"Y-you guys better," Zelos stammered, his tiny frame trembling so obviously that no one present could help but feel sorry for him.

"It will be necessary to do everything as closely as possible to the way we did it before," Raine reminded everyone, changing the subject slightly.  "And on that note, the students must be taught."

"Wh-what?" Genis squeaked.  "You want me to teach, don't you?"

"You are just as knowledgeable as I am, Genis.  The students will grow suspicious and question us if we do not begin class soon.  The oracle comes at noon.  It will be sooner than you know."

Genis's eyes were wide in disbelief, but he relented.  "Fine, but only until the oracle."

"That's fine," Raine stated simply, walking away to an empty desk.

"What a hot mess we've been thrown into," Zelos said, shaking his head as he followed Raine.

Kratos gazed at Genis, who watched nervously as the students settled down and turned to the front.  He nodded once to the half-elf and strode away.  "Indeed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, I keep forgetting to update here. If you want real-time updates, you can always check out this same story on fanfiction.net (https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10617162/1/Reformed). In the meantime, I'll keep trying to update here. Sorry about that, guys!


	4. Chapter 4

**A** Blinding blue light spilled in through the windows and flooded the room, signaling the arrival of the oracle.  There was a chorus of gasps as the awed students rushed from their seats and to the window, all of them eager to catch a glimpse of the beginnings of regeneration.  It was to be expected that the inhabitants of an impoverished planet be excited to find true evidence that their world would soon be revived, and these fortunate citizens of Iselia were among the first to have their hearts filled with that hope.

As the light died down and settled into a warm glow, coloring the desks and walls in a pale cerulean, Kratos glanced over to where Zelos sat.  He could only see the other's backside, and most of that was covered by Colette's long hair, but Kratos knew that Zelos was scared, if, by the way that Zelos had jolted upright and tugged on a few strands of the hair, that was any indication of his inner trauma.

Kratos stood from his desk and walked to the front of the room, and Raine followed him soon afterward.  Zelos hesitated, but after a moment and a deep sigh, he finally stood and made his way to where the rest of them were already huddled together.

"Let it be known that I, the Great and Fabulous Zelos Wilder, hate all of you with a passion that burns more brightly than the voluptuous Luna, herself," Zelos professed, clearly using humor to hide his own fear.  Kratos merely rolled his eyes at the Chosen.

"Let us go to the temple," Kratos told Raine and Genis, pointedly ignoring Zelos's comment.  "There is no time to waste."

"Maybe we'll meet up with you—I mean, your body, and whoever's in it," Genis said awkwardly, looking to Kratos.  "That's where we met you the first time around, so maybe he or she will show up."

"It will be strange to see my body inhabited by another," Kratos murmured, still worried that the _other_ would be Lloyd.  What he wouldn't give to put his apprehension at ease.

"Join the club," Genis groaned, and Raine huffed in agreement.

"We should go," Raine suggested, diverting the conversation away from her unfortunate circumstances.  "As Kratos said, we cannot afford to lose any more time.  We don't know the repercussions of this phenomenon, and I am not eager to find out."

The group collectively looked at Zelos, and upon noticing, he put his hands up defensively.  "Hey, you're not the ones faced with a crappy angel transformation looming on the horizon.  Gimme a break, would you?"

Genis rolled his eyes, but Kratos nodded in agreement.  "I apologize.  We may have treated you harshly, but nonetheless, you still must endure the trials and undergo the transformation.  It will be painful, and you will lose much of your humanity, but there is little we can do until we can obtain Origin's power once again."

There was a silence in which Zelos and Kratos stared at each other, neither moving nor saying anything.

"I'm still not all honky-dory about this plan, you know," Zelos conceded, but he took the first steps out of the classroom, not looking back at the rest of them.  Filled with relief that Zelos was finally in agreement with their plan, the remaining three filed out after him, meeting with him on the dirt paths of the village.  The world around them was silent, save for the occasional chirp of a bird.  The village normally buzzed with life, Kratos recalled, and he worried that something had happened to the people of the town.

"The Renegades must have already gone through the town," Genis said as he, too, noticed the eerie quiet that had fallen over the town.  "We've got to hurry, or the priests will be in danger!"

Kratos recalled Botta and his interception at the Martel Temple.  If they didn't hurry to accept the oracle, then they might find themselves at the mercy of the Renegades.  And given the state they were in, it was better to avoid doing battle with trained soldiers until they had grown accustomed to their new bodies.

"Let's go!" Kratos shouted, running ahead and assuming the others would follow.  By the sound of the footsteps behind him, he had been correct.  He led them out of the town and into the field, hurrying to reach the temple as soon as possible.  He longed for his wings, as he was growing tired of running, but he pressed on, not wanting to risk a fight with the Renegades.

The temple was on the horizon, and the light of the oracle seemed to grow brighter with every pounding step toward it.  He tried to listen for what was to come, and he found it impossible to hear anything over the sound of his own breathing.  As he neared the temple, however, his heart sank, and the sound of metal scraping against metal rang through his ears.  They had been too late.

"The Renegades are already here," Kratos explained, coming to a stop at the base of the massive stone staircase.  "Genis, Raine, stay on the offensive, and use your most powerful spells.  Will your choices in weaponry be an interference in your casting?"

"My rod is merely a medium," Raine explained as she removed Genis's weapon from the large pocket he had always kept it in.  "I can do without, but it is invaluable for directing the mana flow, especially in a fight such as this.  Genis, take your Kendama."

"I can take them on without it, but thanks," Genis said with a smirk as he handed over Raine's rod and took his own weapon.

"That's settled, then," Kratos nodded, then turned to Zelos.  "Zelos, do not engage in the battle.  Unless you are trained in using chakrams, you will only hinder us.  Genis, Raine, stay on the offensive, and use your most powerful spells."  He barked his commands as he started to run up the steps.

"Fine with me," Zelos replied, letting the Sages run past him as he sauntered lazily up the steps behind them.  Kratos rolled his eyes at the blasé attitude of the impudent Chosen, but he shook from his mind the negative thoughts toward Zelos and continued up the stairs, focusing on the battle ahead of him.  As he neared the top, he could hear the sickening sounds of swords piercing skin, and though he worried for the priests, he shook his head clean of everything but his objective.  Drawing Lloyd's wooden swords and desperately hoping that he could swing hard enough that the toys would damage the soldiers, he took the last step onto the platform and readied himself for battle.

"I will ask once more," the Renegade Botta threatened, advancing on the priestess Phaidra as the three other Renegades around their leader drew their weapons, holding them at the ready.  "Where is the Chosen?"  Botta had backed Phaidra into a corner, and there was no hope of her escape.  If Kratos waited any longer, the woman was as good as dead.

"Stop!" he yelled, causing everyone at the temple to look his way.  Botta raised an eyebrow at him, and one of the foot soldiers chuckled, clearly unthreatened by Kratos's presence.

Genis, Raine, and Zelos had finally reached the top, and Botta immediately spotted Zelos.  "It's her!" he called, and his soldiers sprang into action.  The three lunged toward Kratos, who immediately put the twin swords in a defensive stance.  He took the opportunity that the stalemate gave him to glance over his shoulder to see that both of the Sages had begun casting, colorful runes dancing wildly at their feet as they drew in the mana needed for their respective spells.

The soldier leapt back, landing gracefully on his feet and preparing for another strike.  To the left of him, Kratos noticed another soldier charging at the casters, and he called upon the mana inside of him, forging it into a tangible essence he could use.  He felt the mana travel out through his arm and down his blade, cutting into the ground and slicing into the Renegade.  The force of the attack was enough to knock the soldier backward, and Kratos smirked as he turned to face the remaining two enemies.  As he turned, he felt a searing pain across his arm, and he gasped, nearly dropping his sword.  One of the Renegades had snuck up behind him, and he cursed under his breath when he realized that he had not heard the soldier behind him.  Had he still been an angel, Kratos repeated in his head, this would not have happened.

Attempting to shake off the agonizing pain, Kratos knocked the Renegade's next attack with one sword, shoving the blade to the side, and thrust the other blade into the soldier's unarmed torso with another mana-enhanced attack.  The wooden swords could not pierce the armor, but the strength behind Kratos's attack pushed the man away, and he stumbled over his heavy boots before tumbling to the ground.

The heavy use of his mana drained Kratos, and he already felt tired after only knocking out two of the Renegades.  He had no chance to rest, though, as he had to protect his friends while they prepared their spells.

His friends?  No, they were Lloyd's friends.  He had never been the friend of Lloyd's companions.  Kratos shook his head, wondering why he had even considered Zelos, Genis, and Raine his friends.  It had seemed automatic, as if he had always held them in such high regard—

Kratos barely noticed the final Renegade's uppercut, and he fell backward in his attempt to dodge the swing.  He swore, shaking his head forcefully.  There was no time to think about anything other than the battle.

"Grave!" Genis shouted, and the ground underneath Kratos began to rumble.  He scrambled away just as a single pillar of stone shot up from the ground, impaling the Renegade and hauling him into the air to hang limply off the end of the spear.  Kratos didn't move, waiting for the spell to continue, but the trembling stopped, and the spear soon retreated back into the ground, leaving the soldier in a bloody heap on the ground.

Confused but undeterred, Kratos stood and gathered mana within him, preparing a healing spell.  When he felt it sufficiently charged, he placed his opposite hand over the wound and let the mana flow from within him, forming it into a healing energy on its way out.  His spell clearly didn't work, Kratos realized with a start, when the mana merely left his hand and shot out at his arm, exploding on contact and sending waves of searing agony through him.  Kratos gasped and nearly fell to the ground in his shock, but he quickly steadied himself.  So, then, he couldn't heal himself.  It made sense, as Lloyd was merely human, and lacked the means necessary to turn mana into magic.  Sighing deeply, he made his way toward Raine, clutching his bleeding arm.  She understood and began casting a healing spell.  He leaned over so that she could reach him, and she brought her hand over his wound.  The palm of her small hand began to glow a soft green, and Kratos felt the healing magic mending the gash.  It had been centuries since he had last relied on anyone for healing, and he felt ashamed, in a way, that he could no longer do so, at least until he returned to his own body.

The glowing faded, and Kratos was confused for a moment, because while the skin had closed and his arm was no longer bleeding, it had not been healed properly, and there was a puffy, raw lesion that showed through the tear in the jacket.  And worse, the wound still hurt.

"Raine?" Kratos inquired, wondering why she prematurely stopped the spell.

"The spell…didn't work," Raine muttered, "But why is it…?"

A thunderous noise came from behind them, and as Kratos turned around to face whatever foe had come to greet them, he was knocked aside by a large, blunt object.  He smashed through the fencing and into the wooden hut near the temple.

Head spinning, all Kratos could think of was the pain, the aching that affected every part of his fragile body.  He could see through clouded vision Raine and Genis backing away from Vidarr, and Kratos tensed, trying to push himself up so that he could protect them.  Even with the strength that the Exsphere gave him, however, Kratos was simply unused to the unbearable sensation, and his every muscle protested his attempts at recovering.

A chakram whizzed right past Vidarr's head and, with a _clank_ , hit the stone walls of the temple before falling to the ground, useless.  Kratos's eyes flew to Zelos, who was behind both of the Sages and who now held only one chakram.

"Shit!" Zelos cursed, and he began backing away once again.

"Did you really expect that to hit him?" Genis yelled as he focused on staying out of Vidarr's range.

"He's not exactly a small target!" Zelos retorted before leaping to the side, dodging the flail that Vidarr suddenly swung at the trio.

"Zelos!" Raine snapped, not turning to look at the Chosen.  "Throw the other one!"

From his sitting position, Kratos saw an uneasy look on Zelos's face, but he did has he was told and chucked the ring at the advancing Renegade.  This time, the weapon sliced into the lumbering man's bare skin, causing him to howl in pain and cease his progression toward them.  Genis immediately began casting what Kratos assumed to be a low-level spell while Vidarr recovered, and Kratos attempted again to stand and fight.  He managed to get into a sitting position, but he found many of his bones to have been crushed during the impact of Vidarr's hammer, and the pain was far too excruciating to move.

"Fireball!" Genis called as Raine rushed over to Kratos, the short legs of Genis's body impeding her movements.  A single ball of fire formed and flew toward their enemy, disintegrating on contact.  Vidarr growled again and swung his hammer down toward Genis.  Zelos pushed the boy out of the impact just in time, and they rolled together off to the side of the temple and into the grass.

"I'll heal you," Raine said, bringing Kratos's attention back to his aching body.  Both of her hands began to glow, and Kratos could see the healing magic flow from her and into him, reforming his broken bones.  Before he could recover, however, the spell sputtered out, and Raine sat in shock, staring at her hands for a few passing moments.  "Why?"

"I am as confused as you," Kratos admitted, finding that his body had been repaired enough that he could stand.  His every movement sent a new spark of pain through his body, but he pressed on, gritting his teeth as he helped Raine to stand.  "But we must finish this fight before we ponder such anomalies."

"Yes, you're right," Raine conceded, and she rushed over to where Genis and Zelos still lay.

Kratos allowed a new bout of mana to well inside him, and as he released it toward Vidarr, another figure appeared from the side.  Kratos stood in his place, shocked senseless as his own body kicked at the Renegade, a flurry of purple and blue as the person used his wings to soar above Vidarr in order to gain leverage over the man.  All Kratos seemed able to do was watch as the person controlling his body beat down the massive man, distracting him long enough for Genis to cast another spell.  As the ground underneath Vidarr began to bubble and fizz, the purple-clad man kicked off of the opponent's bare chest and landed gracefully next to Zelos.  A weak pillar of water shot up from the earth with a cry of "Spread!" from Genis, and the magic drenched Vidarr, causing the man to stumble back and fall to the ground, defeated.

"You could've come sooner, old man," Zelos griped, wiping sweat from his forehead and messing up the perfectly styled bangs.

"I apologize.  I had to learn how to effectively use wings," the person stated calmly as he walked toward Kratos, who found himself finally breaking free of his stupor.  He held his hands to Kratos's torso, the palms glowing green with healing energy, and Kratos could feel the wounds mend fully, as if his entire body was being replaced with a more complete version of himself.  As the newcomer healed, he muttered under his breath, "I do hope you all have uncovered the meaning of this."

"I believe we have everything figured out," he responded, curious as to who was wearing his body like a favorite suit.

"Dammit," Botta swore, drawing their attention back to the Renegades and Botta.  "I never thought you would interfere."  Leaving his fallen comrades behind, Botta ran past the group and down the stairs in a hasty retreat.

A grateful sigh came from the priestess, and Kratos turned to look at Phaidra.  "Thank you, sir, for saving the Chosen.  I don't know what we would have done if we had lost her to the Desians."

Realizing that Phaidra was speaking to the newest addition to the group, he bowed his head.  "It was my honor to protect the Chosen."

Behind him, Kratos heard Genis whisper to Zelos, "That's your grandmother.  Tell her we're going."

"Oh, uh," Zelos started, moving to the front of the group.  "Yes, well, we'll be off now.  I need to go and accept that oracle.  Kind of a big day for me.  Best be getting on that."

"Chosen?" Phaidra questioned, cocking her head to the side in a confused worry.  "Are you all right?"

Cursing silently, Kratos pulled Zelos back by the back of the white robe given to Colette as a symbol of her status in the church.  "She's fine, Phaidra," he insisted, forcing another smile and praying that he sounded enough like his son that the priestess would allow them all entry into the temple.  "It must be nerves.  She has a long journey ahead of her, after all."

"Oh, yes," Phaidra said, nodding sagely.  "But the priests that were going to guard her on the journey died at the hands of the Desians.  Without protection, she will surely fail."

"W-we'll accompany her!" Genis stammered.  "As a—a healer, I can protect her on the journey."

Phaidra thought for a moment that seemed to last forever, heavy silence hanging in the air as she considered their hastily spoken improvisational lies.  "I suppose we have little choice.  May the goddess guide you on your way."

Letting out a sigh of relief, Kratos released Zelos from his grip and started into the temple, eager to leave the woman's hearing range so that he could finally discover who had traded places with him.

The temple was cool and dim, and they were far enough in that they could discuss freely their situation and objectives.  Kratos wasted no time, and he rounded on the man posing as himself and asked immediately, "Who are you?"

The person did not respond right away, but his question was met with light chuckles from the other three in the group.

"Come on, Kratos, it's not that hard to guess," Zelos said with a wave of his hand.  "He's obviously Regal.  No one else kicks their enemies to death!"  Both Raine and Genis nodded in agreement of Zelos's proposal.

"Regal…" Kratos mumbled to himself, trying to determine whether or not the man was deemed fit enough to wear his face.

"That's correct," Regal admitted with a slight nod.  "And who, may I ask, are you all?  Assuming we're in the same situation, that is."

Kratos took charge in the newest round of introductions and explanations, and Regal listened intently, a myriad of expressions ranging from pity to amusement to shock dancing across Kratos's features.  Kratos watched him with a mixture of jealousy and irritation, and he hoped that they would be able to return to normal as soon as possible.

"Then," Regal mused aloud after Kratos finished explaining his theory about the Eternal Sword, "we must hurry to regain our own bodies, lest any unwelcome repercussions arise."

"What are you saying?" Genis asked, leaning in toward their newest companion.  "Repercussions?"

"I'm not sure," Regal admitted, "but when dealing with a force as powerful as this, it would only seem reasonable that there's some sort of catch."

"Well, I'm not gonna stick around to find out," Zelos assured them.  Kratos turned to him to find that he had begun to walk deeper into the temple.

"Chosen, do not be so hasty," Kratos warned, and Zelos stopped.

With a huff, Zelos rolled his eyes.  "You were the one who said we needed to hurry this along.  I'm just getting a head start.  I'm not as eager as you seem to be to find out what the old man means by _repercussions_."  He spun around and marched off, not bothering to wait for any of them.

"Well," Genis mumbled, "he does have a point."

"Then, let's go," Raine ordered, going after Zelos, and soon, the remaining three followed.

Kratos vaguely remembered the beginning of the Journey of Regeneration, when they had first visited the Martel Temple.  It was the location of the Sorcerer's Ring, and they would need it to unlock the seal guarding the door to the altar room.  Realizing that they no longer had the ring, Kratos stopped in his tracks.  "We will need the Sorcerer's Ring in order to accept the oracle."

"You're kidding, right?" Zelos retorted.  "Where is it?"

"It's in the basement," Genis answered.  "There's a seal on the door that only the ring can break."

Zelos groaned in annoyance.  "Whatever, let's just go get it."

Kratos nodded and led them toward the rightmost pathway that would lead them to the basement.  The air chilled more as they progressed deeper within, the light growing dimmer as they left the entrance behind.

"I have a question," Genis spoke into the silence.  "What was going on with my spells earlier?  They were only half as strong as they should've been, even when I charged them up for twice as long."

"When I try to heal," Raine began, "it's weaker than it should be, and it doesn't last as long as it normally would."

"Hm," Regal mused, bringing a pondering finger to his chin.  "I found when healing Kratos that it was far stronger than it had been when I had my own body.  Could the two be connected?"

"I am no longer capable of healing," admitted Kratos, "As a human, I am severely limited in fighting, unfortunately."

The group found the staircase that led to the basement, and as they began to descend into the near-darkness, Regal unfurled his wings and lit the path with them.

"Wings are certainly useful," Regal stated simply.  "They certainly aid in fighting, I believe."

"I thought so, too," Kratos muttered under his breath as he continued into the darkness.

After a short silence, Raine brought them back into their previous discussion.  "Perhaps, specialization in magic follows the mana signature and not the soul.  That could be why we find our abilities weakened—or, in your case, Regal, strengthened.  If our capabilities follow our mana signature, it would make sense that we are experiencing such downgrades in our spells."

"What do you mean, Raine?" Genis asked, leaning down a bit to better concentrate on his sister.

"Genis, you have always been gifted in elemental magic.  You picked it up quickly, and your spells were powerful.  I had no such luck in offensive magic, and so I took up healing artes, instead."  She looked up at her brother.  "I had always assumed that I simply had a lack of understanding for damaging spells, and that you couldn't understand the complexities of healing."

"But instead," Regal interjected, continuing Raine's train of thought, "you now believe they follow the mana signature of each person?  Then, that would mean the signature is tied to the physical body and not the soul."

"Correct," Raine resumed, nodding at her friend.  "That would be why the Chosen system works so magnificently.  The mana signature is tied to the host body, and therefore, a soul transference can occur between two people with nearly identical signatures."

"But what does that have to do with spells?" Zelos asked, joining the conversation.  "I get the mana signature not changing, meaning I technically _am_ the little angel now—" in the dim lighting, Kratos saw a grimace on Zelos's face, "—but that doesn't explain why we couldn't use our own spells.  If it's about understanding the magic, then it should carry over, regardless of what our mana signature is."

"It's not about an understanding or knowledge," Kratos said, picking up on Raine's theory.  "If it was, then I would have been able to at least manage a weak healing spell."

"The mana signature must be connected to the spells we are able to use, what we are able to convert mana into," Raine explained.  "It would make sense that our mana signature would influence what we are capable of doing with mana."

"So if I keep doing elemental magic, it won't be very strong?" Genis demanded.  "How is that supposed to help us?  And what about you, Raine?  You're our strongest healer!"

Raine kept calm amidst Genis's frenzy.  "Let me try something."  She paused and concentrated, a red circle of runes appearing as she converted her mana into magic.

"What are you—?" Zelos began, but he was cut short when he had to dodge several balls of fire.  "Are you _trying_ to kill me‽"

The fire flew down the hallway of the basement, lighting up the path and fizzing away as they hit a wall a hundred feet down, lighting up an object placed on a pedestal in front of them.  "That was…so exhilarating!" Raine exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she smiled wildly.

"That was impressive," Regal stated, "Was this the first time you have cast that spell?"

Raine nodded.  "It was.  And my theory has thus far upheld testing.  It seems that we will need to master magic with which we are unaccustomed, Genis."

"You're kidding.  There's no way I could heal someone!" Genis asserted.

"Don't be silly," Raine stated.  "You are just as gifted as I am.  I will help you as needed, but I know you are capable of doing such simple magic."

Clearly disbelieving of his sister but not willing to pursue the topic, Genis said nothing in response, allowing the conversation to fade away.

"There was an object on the far wall," Kratos stated, breaking the awkward silence.  "I believe it is the Sorcerer's Ring."

"Thank Martel," Zelos muttered, running ahead without them to grab the ring.

"We will discuss magic at a later date, Genis," Raine reminded her brother as she ran after Zelos.  Genis groaned audibly.

"Healing is not difficult," Regal comforted him.  "Raine's healing power will be a vital asset to us while we remain in this situation.  I will help you understand the basics of healing, if you need help."

"Th-thanks, Regal," Genis stuttered.  Kratos caught an embarrassed flush on his face before he ran ahead to presumably pry the ring away from Zelos.

~*~

The angel appeared in an orb of golden light, an ostentatious show of power.  _Whatever_ , Zelos thought to himself, _let's just get this over with_.  The sooner they completed the Journey of Regeneration, the sooner they would make it back to Tethe'alla and return to their own bodies.  He was getting tired of Colette's bangs getting in his eyes and the heavy robes fluttering around him gracelessly.  He missed his gorgeous face, his flawless hair, his entire _body_.  Whoever had his body would surely be sorry they had ever woken up inside of it.

The allegedly holy being, dressed in formal robes and looking like the absolute stereotype with which everyone in the Church depicted them, flapped his wings and allowed himself to float downward, hovering just a few feet off the altar.  Zelos already hated the guy.

"I am the angel of judgment, Remiel," the angel spoke, staring into Zelos's eyes and locking onto them.  Through the calm on Remiel's face, Zelos saw humor, as if the being got a kick out of watching him give up his humanity for a world he had never belonged to.  "I am here to guide the daughter of the mana lineage, Colette, on her journey to regenerate this impoverished land.  It is time to awaken the goddess Martel, who lies sleeping within the earth.  Are you prepared to accept the trials required of the Chosen?"

"Yeah, sure," Zelos answered, eyes never wavering from the angel's face.  "I accept them."  As he finished his sentence, Remiel extended his hand toward him and suddenly, Zelos couldn't breathe.  He felt his chest explode, an inner fire spreading throughout him and finally settling under his collarbone.  He dropped to the ground in pain, gripping at his chest with one hand and keeping himself upright with the other.  Gasping for breath, he squeezed his eyes shut, and then, the pain stopped as abruptly as it came.  Under his hand, he felt a cool metal, and he stroked it, recognizing the Cruxis Crystal and its mount.  From his place on the ground, he glared up at Remiel, who merely looked amused at the spectacle.

"From this point, Colette Brunel has become the Chosen of Regeneration.  In recognition of this holy event, Cruxis blesses you and this world and bestows upon Sylvarant the Tower of Salvation."  Remiel's hand flourished toward one of the windows in the large room, and Zelos broke his gaze to see the tower stretching high into the sky, connecting the world to Derris-Kharlan.  It looked elegant and grandiose, peaceful even, as if it truly were a symbol of salvation rather than the indication of a twisted world.

"The Tower of Salvation…" Zelos murmured.

"Chosen One, go forth and unlock the seals to heaven," Remiel commanded, an aura of authority radiating off of him and demanding respect.  "Upon breaking each seal that guards the Tower of Salvation, you will be granted the power of the angels.  When you have been reborn, this eroded world shall be regenerated."

His wings beat faster behind him, carrying him upwards toward the ceiling.  Stealing one last glance at Zelos and his friends, Remiel smirked.  Then, in another blinding light, the angel disappeared, leaving behind a silence.

"Shit!" Zelos swore loudly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah next week I have two tests and an essay due sooo I'm not going to be updating next week. Look for the next chapter, hopefully, the Wednesday after!


	5. Chapter 5

**"I** want the sword."

"I have far more experience in swordsmanship than you."

"Exactly why I should get the sword, and you should keep the sticks."

Upon approaching Iselia, Regal had offered to relinquish Kratos's sword.  It was of no use to him, and so he'd no reason to keep it on his person.  His suggestion, however, had merely sparked animosity between the two swordsmen of the group.

Kratos crossed his arms and glared at the Chosen.  "I am a trained expert in swordsmanship, and I have held that status for four thousand years.  You are simply not as skilled as I."

"But at least you can fight with those things," Zelos retorted, gesturing toward the wooden blades at Kratos's side.  "I have no idea how to use chakrams.  You, at least, have a chance to defend yourself.  So I want the sword."

"For once in my life, I agree with Zelos," Genis grumbled.  "I don't want him holding us back any more than he already has been."

"Can it, twerp," Zelos snapped, whipping around to face the kid.  His own glare deepened upon realizing that he had to look _up_ to see Genis's face.

"I believe Genis has a point," Regal agreed, removing the scabbard from one of the belts on his suit.  "Zelos needs a way to protect himself.  The chakrams are useless to one who knows nothing of their mechanics."

There came a triumphant whoop from Zelos and a disgruntled groan from Kratos, who rolled his eyes and said nothing more on the matter.  At least, reasoned Kratos, he could use the twin swords effectively enough until he was able to buy a new sword in Triet.  He hoped, however, that they would get to the town soon enough that he would not need to use Lloyd's wooden swords for long.  They were dull and incapable of piercing flesh, and without constant use of his mana in his attacks, Kratos knew that he would do little more than produce a slight bruise on the flesh of the enemy.  It would be a draining experience, but he nonetheless had the confidence that he could accomplish such a task, even in a body so lacking in strength and reflexes.

Kratos watched as Zelos swung the sword around, slicing through the air as he practiced fighting with his borrowed form.  It seemed clumsy and untrained at first, but as the Chosen swung his new weapon around, the movements became more refined, as if Colette, herself, were a master swordsman, rather than her counterpart who had usurped her façade.

"Heh, it's a bit tough," Zelos panted, a few beads of sweat trickling down the youthful face that didn't belong to him.  Golden hair stuck together through aid of the sweat, and the Chosen stopped briefly to regain his breath.  "The little angel must not have worked out much before the Journey of Regeneration, huh?"

"She was trained in a more stationary style of combat than you were, Zelos," Raine reminded him, walking further into town.  "Now, put the scabbard on.  You will have time to train later, when we truly begin the journey."

"Eh, whatever, let's just get going," he breathed, fastening the sheath onto his hip and sliding the sword into it.  "At any rate, I'm gonna feel this tomorrow."

Ignoring the complaints, Kratos turned to leave with Raine, entering the town at last.  "The journey will begin tomorrow morning.  We should rest now and regain our strength.  We will need it in order to trek the sands of the Triet Desert."

"What about Marble?" Genis asked suddenly, drawing everyone's attention to the currently taller half-elf.

"Marble?" Regal repeated, confused.  "That name seems familiar…"

"She was—Marble was my friend," Genis choked, refusing to meet anyone's eyes.  "She was sent to the Iselia Ranch and—and I killed her."

"She was Chocolat's grandmother," Raine explained further, and both Zelos and Regal nodded in sudden understanding.

"Well, what about her?" Zelos waved his hand in a nonchalant gesture.

Genis was quiet for a time, and then he mumbled, "I think we could save her this time."

Kratos's eyes widened, and as he scanned the faces of the others around him, he saw that the same mild disbelief was equally present on all their faces.  "Genis," Kratos reasoned, "it would be unwise to trifle with such a delicate balance."

"But we could save her!" Genis burst in a fit of unexpected emotion.  "If we all went together, we could probably even take down the ranch, and we could rescue everyone!  And—and we could prevent so many deaths."

"Or we could fail and cause a more severe destruction of Iselia," Raine countered, her words harsh and clipped as her eyes narrowed.  "There are too many factors which you have failed to take into account.  We are still unaware of the entire situation, and we do not have our full capabilities in these bodies.  You are still unwilling to perform a simple healing spell, and yet you wish to put on the line the lives of all the people in Iselia!"

"I…" Genis breathed, head drooping as his resolution was drawn out of him, leaving him little more than a stammering child.

"You received your Exsphere from Marble, did you not?" Kratos inquired.  The journey would be difficult without Exspheres enhancing the Sages' spells, he realized, and he knew that somehow, inevitably, their journey would lead them to the Iselia Ranch, if not only because of that reason.

"It was after Lloyd and I killed her," Genis confirmed with a nod.  "I've always felt her warmth inside it, giving me the strength I needed to save the world.  I think she would have been proud of the world we'd made…and I think, in some way, she was there with me, and she was happy that we'd defeated Yggdrasill and created a world where everyone could live freely."

"That's all very touching, but what does this have to do with anything?" Zelos demanded.  Genis glared at him, disgusted at the man's insensitivity.  Truly, Kratos was slightly put-off, as well, but he brushed the thought away and continued.

"We will all need Exspheres in order to finish our journey," Kratos explained.  "In our current state, we will need all the help we can get."

"We can acquire an Exsphere from any Desian," Regal proposed.  "It would certainly be much safer to single out a Desian than to risk the destruction of Iselia."

The logic Regal offered was sound, but there was a dull nagging in the back of Kratos's mind which compelled him to feel differently.  There was something, a faint desire, that told him that the logic was amiss, that there was an element missing.  Kratos was silent as he thought, searching through his mind to find the purpose for the nagging.  It seemed that, for some reason, he _wanted_ to save Marble, to rescue her from her unfortunate situation and even to destroy the ranch and all the Desians within.  Thinking rationally, Kratos knew why they could not simply go to the ranch and risk Forcystus's wrath upon the village, but the nagging, which refused to listen to reason and which only spoke from emotion, demanded that he save the innocents within the Desians' clutches.  As he teased the thought, it simply grew in magnitude in severity, calling for him to go against reason and experience and to act purely on instinct, and though he knew that the mere idea of such was a dangerous thing, he found that he could simply not refuse.

"We need to save Marble," Kratos blurted before he could even think to stop himself.  Incredulous looks imposing on his self-consciousness, he had to look away in order to redeem himself.

"Kratos, what are you saying?" Raine asked, squinting up at him as if trying to peer into his thought processes.  "You're changing your mind?"

"I…" he began, trailing off while trying to find the correct sequence of words.  He wanted to rescind the unwanted blunder, but the nagging in his mind had grown far too great to ignore.  Without conscious thought, he began to speak again.  "If we rescue Marble, we will avoid strife with Chocolat, and perhaps we can evade the plethora of problems that she caused us previously."

"If Kratos agrees, then we should go save her!" Genis pleaded, desperation evident on his face.  "If we have all five of us, it shouldn't be a problem to take down the Desians and get Marble out of the ranch!"

"Even if that's true," Raine began, "we would still be walking into the lion's den without a full grip on the reality of our current condition.  It would be better to stay away from the Desians until we are fully prepared to go against them."

"We are fully prepared, Raine!" Genis cried.  "We all have weapons, and we've literally saved the world.  We can't just let Marble die!"

"We will need to take an Exsphere from a Desian if Genis is to become stronger," Regal reminded her.  "Our journey would take us to the ranch no matter what.  Genis's chosen path merely leads us into more peril."

"I'm fine with that," Zelos added with a shrug.  "It's just a little detour before we begin the journey."  The Chosen said the last word with uncertainty, and Kratos knew clearly where Zelos's priorities lay.  He still did not actually want to go through with the angel transformation process, and he was willing to stall.  An understandable reaction, Kratos reasoned.

Raine sighed deeply, placing a hand on her face in a gesture of obvious irritation.  "You're all hopeless.  I pray you all know what you're doing."

~*~

Kratos felt the sting on his back, as if the whip were connecting with his own flesh, rather than with the older man imprisoned in the Iselia Ranch.  Through the barbed wire fencing that surrounded the grounds of the human ranch, the five could see every lash of the Desians' whips, every drop of blood that fell from the fresh wounds of the prisoners, every weakened muscle on their arms as they struggled to push heavy stone blocks through the courtyard for no purpose other than to continue the activation process of the parasitic gem.  Looking at it made Kratos sick.

Genis rushed past them and toward a tiny inlet between the cliff and the barbed fencing that formed the boundaries of the ranch.  He waved them over, and upon reaching the large bush that hid them from the Desians' menacing eyes, they all simultaneously noticed an elderly woman, worn and beaten, hunched over off to the side, as if trying to catch her breath.

"Marble!" Genis called quietly enough that the watchmen could not overhear and prevent the rendez-vous.  The woman, Marble, looked over and saw the five, her wrinkled eyes becoming even more so as she squinted in confusion at the spectacle.  But at last, she saw Raine, and, unaware of the circumstances, believed her to be her brother.  Her eyes became kind and gentle as she smiled and made her way to the group.

"Genis," she started, a motherly warmth in her voice, "who are your friends?"  The woman looked at Raine expectantly, awaiting her response.

Raine seemed unfazed by the sudden necessity to lie about her identity, and she took on the role with a certain grace that only she could muster.  "They're my friends," she explained.  "Kratos, Lloyd, Colette, and my sister, Raine."

Marble nodded in sage understanding.  "It's a pleasure to meet all of you.  Did you witness the oracle, too?  Now, the world will be saved, and the Desians sealed.  I pray that Martel guides the Chosen on her journey."  The leaves of the bush that hid them rustled as Zelos shifted uncomfortably, looking with a fixed gaze into the human ranch at the other prisoners and the Desians.

"You have an Exsphere," Regal stated, "but there is no key crest on it."

"Exspheres are attached to all host bodies upon their arrival at the human ranches," Kratos explained quietly, and Regal's face became grim.

"Yes," Marble confirmed, "all of us here have these gems on us.  What did you call them?  Exspheres?"

Genis nodded.  "Yeah, but they're dangerous without a key crest.  We need to get you one as quickly as possible."

"Is that so?" Marble asked, looking down at the stone embedded into her hand.  It glowed faintly, pulsing as it did so, as if it were feeding off her fear in that very moment.  Kratos met an unsavory taste in his mouth as he remembered that it was, in fact, doing just that.  Remembering all of the atrocities he had caused in his past, he narrowed his eyes at the parasite, an inextinguishable rage coloring his every thought.

From behind Marble came the hardened voice of a Desian foot soldier.  "Where the hell did she go?"

"They've found out," Marble stated, eyes suddenly widening in fear.  "You must go!  Quickly!"

"No!" Genis cried, forgetting to keep his voice down in his moment of desperation.  "We came to rescue you, so we're going to get you out of here!"

"What?" the woman questioned, brow drawing up in confusion.

"I can't just let you stay here," Genis spoke again, "not when we can do something about it."

Marble glanced behind her to see where the Desians were, and upon seeing that they had not yet rounded the corner that would give away her location, she turned back around to face the group.  "It's far too dangerous."

In the distance, Kratos could hear shouts of various Desians.  "Sir!  Host Body F192 is unaccounted for!"  What little time they had was quickly trickling away as more and more Desians gathered to search for Marble.  Though they were safe now, soon, the Desians would find them, and they had to free her before it was too late.

"No, there is not enough time," Marble asserted, shaking her head frantically.  "If the Desians find you, they will kill you, or worse, imprison you.  You must think of your own well-being!"

"We still have time," Regal countered.  "We can break through the wire and free you.  It is unacceptable that you must endure the weight of the Desians' sins."

"Guys," Zelos nearly whispered, finally speaking for the first time since arriving at the ranch.  With all attention on him, he gestured to the side, and worried eyes slid slowly to where Zelos had indicated.  A couple of lower ranked Desians had emerged from inside the ranch to search for Marble, and they had unwittingly stumbled upon the group.

"Halt!" one of the soldiers called, drawing a sword.  "Entering the grounds of this human ranch is in violation of the Non-Aggression Treaty with the town of Iselia!  Identify yourselves!"

"We have no need to identify ourselves to mere Desians," Regal remarked coolly, his eyes narrowed dangerously and his head raised in a clear display of power.  He got into a stance suitable for lunging at the enemies, and at his initiation, the others pulled out their weapons and readied themselves for a trifling fight.

"How dare you speak with such disrespect!" the companion of the first Desian shouted, and it was he who made the first move.  In outrage, the soldier ran directly toward Regal, who calmly sidestepped the uncalculated swing that the Desian had performed.  With the soldier off balance, he had an opening to create a distraction so that the Sages could begin casting.

Regal kicked the soldier to the ground, leaving Zelos and Kratos to distract the other Desian.  Zelos charged forward first, running at the enemy and jumping into the air, a stream of mana swirling around him as he spun around, knocking the Desian to the ground.  Kratos kept him there by releasing a burst of mana that flowed from the tips of his sword.  The blue-tinted force hit the half-elf and shattered against his form, and the Desian convulsed at the evident pain.

As Zelos landed, he stumbled a bit but regained his footing enough to stab his sword into the body, creating a massive wound on the stomach and destroying what little life was left within it.  "Well, that was easy," Zelos laughed humorlessly before turning to the other Desian.

"Stone Blast!" Raine shouted, and several rocks began to quiver under the feet of the remaining soldier.  Though he tried to dodge, the stones shot up quickly, knocking him over with the strength of the spell.  Raine smirked and began another spell with blue runes.  Regal placed his foot on the belly of the Desian, crushing him with the weight of his boot.  The second low-level spell was cast with a shout of "Aqua Edge!" and the soldier was engulfed by the powerful disks of water, drowning the man upon impact.  To finish him off, Zelos slashed once across the Desian's neck.

"Unworthy enemies," Kratos huffed, looking at the mangled bodies of their enemies.  "Genis, Raine," he called, reaching to the corpses and pulling the Exsphere off of each Desian in turn.  "Your Exspheres."  He tossed them at the two, who caught and equipped them.  Kratos caught a small, grateful smile from the two as they did so, obviously relieved at their once again enhanced abilities.  With that dilemma solved, he turned back to where they had been talking with Marble, only to find that the woman was no longer on the other side of the fencing.

"Well, well," came a voice from behind.  Kratos stiffened, recognizing it immediately.  "Looks like a band of inferior beings has infiltrated my ranch."  Slowly, Kratos turned to face Forcystus, whose smug expression matched his lax pose and showed seemingly no concern for the five humans and half-elves who stood before him.  Their hands fumbled for their weapons in preemptive preparation of the outcome of this confrontation.

"You!" Kratos growled, pointing the unimpressive wooden swords at the Cardinal.

"Me?  Yes, I suppose I am," Forcystus, replied mockingly, raising an amused eyebrow.  "Now, to discuss the problem at hand.  What are you doing on my grounds, in contact with my property?"  The half-elf gave them no time to respond, however, as he spotted the Exsphere on Kratos's hand, and his eyes widened.  "You're—!  It's the Angelus Project!"

Memories of Anna rushed Kratos, leaving his head spinning as he remembered his wife and the horrors of this very Exsphere.  His eyes narrowed, and he glared silently at the Grand Cardinal.

"Get the Exsphere," Forcystus suddenly snapped, calling for low-ranked foot soldiers to act on his beckoning.  A nearby Desian responded immediately, charging at Kratos.  To hinder the spearwoman, Kratos sent out two waves of mana, one from each of the swords.  He disliked such arduous long-ranged combat, but he had little choice until he was able to acquire a sword that would actually damage his foes.  The woman staggered, allowing Kratos the time to run up to her and strike her with a mana-charged blow, knocking her onto her back.

"Incompetent worms," Forcystus muttered toward the disabled woman, disgust laced in every word.  "I'll just need to take care of this myself, then."  With that, he lifted his large arm cannon, pointing it directly at Kratos as it charged.  The metal opened and revealed the barrel, and an orb of pure mana shot from it, hitting Kratos with a force that knocked him backwards so as not to fall over immediately.  But he lost his footing on the precarious edge of the cliff, and soon, there was nothing under Kratos's feet.  As he fell, he wondered how much it would hurt when he landed.  With no warning, a loud _crunch_ indicated that he had, indeed, landed, and it did, indeed, hurt like hell.

Kratos moved his arms, trying to get in a position where he could stand and rejoin the others.  But every movement ached terribly, and he found it easier to simply lie on the ground, awaiting the hollow feeling that unconsciousness brought with it.  His companions were competent fighters, he reasoned, and he had no way to recover from this injury.  And so it was best that he wait for his companions to escape Forcystus and make their way to him.

He did not have to wait long for salvation.  The meager hearing capabilities Lloyd possessed did not allow him to hear the footsteps until they were closer, but he recognized the frantic voices of his friends.

There is was again.  'Friends'.  What had possessed him this time?  They were mere companions, forced upon him by the nature of their condition, so then why—?

"Kratos!" Raine called, rousing him from his thoughts.  He let his head loll to the side, blurred vision catching the outline of Raine's brother.  "Genis, you need to heal him."

Kratos could not see their expressions through myriad swarming black dots in his eyes, but Genis's tone indicated that he was still nervous about healing.  "But I…!  How am I supposed to do that?"

"It's simple," Raine began, her voice becoming sharp and scholarly.  "Focus your mana into a soothing light, and let it flow into the injuries."

There was a rustling next to him, and the bright orange cloak that rightfully belonged to Raine filled Kratos's vision.  Kratos blinked rapidly to clear the dots from his eyes, and it alleviated his inability to see clearly, just in time to watch hands move slowly over his chest.  Genis squeezed his eyes closed and concentrated.  He could no longer feel the shifting of mana around him, but he saw Genis's efforts come to fruition as a faint ring of white runes appeared around him.  A comforting warmth filled his entire body, mending the cracked bones and leaving him with renewed strength.  He felt his weakness fade, replacing it with cleared vision and mind.  He gasped at the sudden feeling of wellness, and he immediately sat up, knocking away Genis's hands.  The half-elf fell back, landing on his butt with a surprised grunt.

"Thank you, Genis."  Kratos stood and turned to offer a hand to Genis, brushing himself off with the other.

"I can't believe I actually did it," Genis mused, mesmerized by his own power.

Raine scoffed.  "It's not difficult, especially for someone with the level of intelligence you have, Genis."  Her brother looked down sheepishly, and for the first time, Kratos noticed that the three were alone in the clearing.

"Where are Zelos and Regal?" he asked, glancing around in attempts to find the aforementioned two.

"They stayed behind to hold off the Desians while we came to save you," Genis responded, turning back toward the path through the forest.  "Let's get back to them!"

Kratos nodded and followed the Sages back into the forest.  They didn't make it far into the forest, though.  As they approached a hill, Zelos and Regal appeared on the horizon, their hair disheveled and their clothing dirtied.  Genis ran ahead of them with Raine following closely behind.

"You found him?" Regal asked, breathing a light sigh of relief.  "I'm glad there was no permanent damage."

"Genis healed me," Kratos explained smoothly.  "Were you able to hold back Forcystus?"

"He left saying some crap about 'coming to get that Exsphere' or something."  Zelos waved his hand and shrugged his shoulders.  "Looks like you're a wanted man, Kratos."

"We weren't able to save Marble," Genis lamented suddenly, drawing everyone's attention to him.  "She's still in the ranch, and Forcystus saw us, and we just made everything worse."

"We can save her later, when we return to the Iselia region," Raine comforted, placing a soothing hand on the small of Genis's back.  "But now, we should return to the village.  Regal, you may stay with us for the night, though I don't imagine you will need to sleep in your current state."

"Thank you, Raine," Regal nodded.  "Kratos, I trust that you can return to Lloyd's home with no problem?"

"I have traversed this forest many times," Kratos acquiesced.  "The night will fall soon, and you should all return to Iselia.  We shall meet tomorrow for the beginning of the journey."

"Yeah, yeah, don't remind me," Zelos complained, and with a grimace, he turned and walked down the path that led out of the Iselia Forest and toward the village, the others quickly falling in step behind him.

~*~

"Kratos!  Wake up!"  The urgent voice roused Kratos from the deep sleep into which he had fallen immediately when returning to Lloyd's home.  Disgruntled, he cracked an eye open, finding himself standing next to the bed.  No, not himself; it was Regal.  Shaking his mind free of clouded thought, he wondered why Regal was in the room.

The muffled, rhythmic sound of wind being pushed drew Kratos's attention to the translucent wings that were flapping behind Regal.  He raised his eyebrows, confused about the entire scenario.  He looked back at the familiar face, silently questioning Regal's presence.

"Iselia has fallen under attack by the Desians.  We must hurry!" Regal exclaimed, and a wave of guilt swept through Kratos's body.  It had been his impulsivity which had caused this.  But he steeled his sudden resolve and pulled on the jacket which fit him snugly and the heavy boots.

"Please take me to Iselia."  Kratos fastened onto his person the belt which held the twin swords, and together, they walked onto the balcony outside Lloyd's room.  Regal fit his hand around Kratos's waist and took off without warning.  This method of travel was certainly more effective than walking, but Kratos had his mind set on getting to the village as quickly as possible, and mentally urged Regal to fly more quickly.  If there was something he could do to help, he would do it.  He had caused this attack, and the knowledge of that plagued his mind and left him with a guilt, not unlike one he had known before, but still strong enough for him to feel its effects.

On the horizon, Kratos finally saw the outline of the tiny village, and Regal began to descend, the wings flapping more slowly as they fell through the air.  They landed near the back of the town and froze at the sight.  Flames licked every building, charring the wood as it spread, destroying everyone's home without mercy.  With renewed conviction, Kratos ran down the dirt path toward the entrance and stumbled into a mob of both Desians and civilians.  The heat from the buildings around them was intense, but Kratos ignored it all, instead remaining focused on the enemies that stood before him.

"What happened?" Kratos demanded to no one in particular, but his attention was soon drawn to the group of Desians that huddled together, guarding their leader.

"Lloyd Irving, the wanted criminal!" a Desian called, pointing directly at Kratos.  "You have been found guilty of violating the non-aggression treaty between the human ranch and the town of Iselia!"

"And for such a despicable act—" the voice of Forcystus quieted the entire crowd as suddenly as he had spoken, "—we, the Desians, have brought retribution upon you and this town.  Your crime is inexcusable, and therefore, you must be punished."

There was a rumbling the came from outside the town, and the Desians parted, revealing an Exbelua.

_No_ , Kratos mourned to himself, his eyes locked on the grieving human, _not again…_

The Exbelua walked forward, its awkward movements causing it to sway.  The clawed hands dragged along the ground, stirring the dirt and leaving marks on the path.  It moved slowly, every jagged limp indicating the pain that the poor human was experiencing.  It stopped a few feet from where Kratos and Regal stood, letting out a cry that caused the ground to rumble.  Upon regaining his balance after the Exbelua's scream, Kratos realized that he was running out of time.  If he did not act soon, the Exbelua's mind would lose itself, and it would begin blindly attacking.  There would be no victor, and Kratos wept within his mind, apologizing over and over to Anna as he drew the twin swords.  Beside him, Regal had also taken a fighting stance, but his eyes were glassy, as if he, too, were remembering a painful memory.

"Guys!" a female voice called, and Kratos dared look away from the Exbelua just enough to spot Genis, Raine, and Zelos running toward them.  But Genis, upon seeing the Exbelua, stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the monstrous entity as it writhed in pain, digging its claws into the dirt, forcing the earth to feel the pain of the Exsphere.  Genis began to shake, eyes wide as he stumbled to find a word, any word, to express himself.  "M-Marble…!"

So, then, that was the punishment.  Kratos swallowed and, this time apologizing to the kindly old woman, returned his focus to the Exbelua as Raine began to channel mana, forming it into magic.  Zelos wasted no time rushing Marble, leaping into the air and knocking the Exbelua back with a ribbon of mana that swirled around him.  While Marble stumbled, she did not fall, and she quickly recovered, growing angry as her mana continued to run wild, destroying her mind and causing her to lose control of her movements.  Marble shambled forward menacingly, directly toward Kratos, who apologized once more before sending out a blast of mana at the Exbelua, hitting her leg and causing her to pause yet again, which gave Zelos the time he needed to draw mutated blood from the green, grotesque flesh.  Marble instantly howled at the pain and curled in on herself, causing the ground to rumble again as her mana flowed out of her body, infecting the ground around her with a black hue.  Zelos was caught in the attack, engulfed by the mana and knocked away.  This broke Genis out of his stupor, and he rushed to Zelos's aid, healing him as quickly as he could.

Regal had taken up the task of distracting Marble, carefully not using his wings so as not to arouse suspicion.  It hindered his mobility against the large form of the Exbelua, but it was not a problem for him, since Regal was more used to fighting without the aid of wings.

Kratos ran into the battle with a thrust to Marble's abdomen just as Raine shouted, "Wind Blade!"  Marble was immobilized by the sphere of wind that encompassed her, and both Regal and Kratos jumped at the opportunity.  Kratos pulled his mana into a concentrated form and let it coat each of the swords.  They began glowing with the thick mana, and Kratos slashed into Marble, slicing her belly open.  The coppery scent of blood filled the air and overwhelmed Kratos with its stench, but he followed through with his attack, thrashing with the other sword and marking an _x_ on the flesh.  Regal thrust his foot directly into the wound with an uneasy _squelch_.  His boot pushed through to the other side of Marble's deteriorating body, and he pulled back out as Marble fell to the ground, defeated.

The mana that covered the swords dissipated, leaving Kratos drained and weary.  Though he made every attempt to hide his weakness, he was certain that it was visible in his stature and expression.

Kratos's eyes shifted to where Regal stood over Marble's body, and he silently acknowledged his mourning, adding in his own memorandum to the aged woman.  Genis, having healed Zelos, stood and made his way to Marble's body to share in her memory.

An elderly voice cut through their recollection.  "What have you done?!"  Kratos looked up to see the mayor of Iselia stomping toward him.  "You've caused the destruction of Iselia!"  Kratos looked around at the charred homes and the crowd of homeless citizens of the town.

"I apologize," Kratos responded, unsure of how to alleviate the situation with which he was faced.  He looked at the mayor's bellicose mannerisms, at Forcystus's smug face, at Marble's torn and battered body.

"Simple words mean nothing!" the mayor shouted.  "You have brought the Desians to Iselia, all of you!"

Genis stepped into the conversation.  "We were just—!"

"Motives do not justify the end," the mayor interrupted, his words clipped and harsh.

In the near distance, the astounded voice of Forcystus rang out.  "What the…?"  Kratos turned in time to see that Marble had regained consciousness and was crawling toward the Cardinal, her body convulsing and glowing, as if she were going to explode.  Forcystus's subordinates surrounded him, but Marble pushed through them with her throbbing claws, cutting down anyone who stood in her way.  When she reached the half-elf, she dug her claws into his leg, dragging them slowly down his flesh.  With a wailing cry of pain, Forcystus fell to the ground, and Marble climbed on top of him, her convulsions reaching a peak.

Her anguished crying began.  "Ge…nis," she bellowed, "thank you…"  And with her final words spoken, she burst, her mana releasing into the air and wounding the Grand Cardinal with the explosion.  Her Exsphere flew into the air and landed with a soft _plink_ on the ground near Genis.  Shocked, the boy silently bent to scoop up the gem, and he cradled it as he continued to watch the scene before him.

"No!  Lord Forcystus!" one Desian called out, and they reformed a protective barrier around him.

"Lloyd Irving," Forcystus grunted from within the circle of Desians.  "You have not seen the last of me.  So long as you carry the Angelus Project, you will always be pursued."  A few soldiers took on the task of carrying their leader, and they slowly retreated from the village.  Forcystus kept his eyes trained on Kratos until he could no longer see the other.

"This is all your fault!" the mayor shouted again, drawing the attention back to him.  "And you!"  The aging man rounded on Zelos, glaring at him with a malice that caused even Zelos to lose his nonchalance.  "You were born to bring peace and prosperity to Sylvarant, and what did you do?  You destroyed a town because of your selfish actions!  What good as a Chosen are you?"

"Whoa, what?" Zelos retorted, at a loss for words.

"All you are is another failed Chosen," the mayor spat, turning up his nose at Zelos.  "You are a danger to our village.  You all are!"

"You're going to exile us," Genis stated, not as a question, but as a fact.

"Any and all interaction with the human ranch is forbidden under the non-aggression treaty," the mayor confirmed.  "The Desians have marked you as their enemy, and so long as you are here, Iselia remains under threat from the Desians.  So leave!"

"You can't do that!" Zelos shouted, but his words were lost on the man.

"With the rights vested in me as mayor of Iselia, I hereby banish Lloyd Irving, Raine and Genis Sage, Colette Brunel, and Kratos Aurion from this village.  Do not return, ever."  He glared at the five, hands on his hips as he leaned forward, telling them to leave in every way that he could manage.

"Let's go," Raine said, tugging on the orange robes Genis wore, and they turned to begin their long journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I forgot to upload new chapters here :/ sorry. Expect chapter 6 in the next few days unless I forget again.


	6. Chapter 6

**T** he heat of the Triet Desert bore down on him, tanning every part of his exposed skin until it burned, reddening with every passing moment.  Sweat drenched his brow, and he desperately longed for his hairband so that he might prevent the perspiration from falling into his eyes, as it was currently doing.  Reaching up with the drenched, white sleeve of Colette's robes, he yet again wiped his arm across his forehead, the fabric collecting his sweat.

Zelos felt like he was melting.

"Man, it's so hot," he complained, lolling his head back and fanning himself with a petite hand, but he only succeeded in blowing warm air into his face and making himself even hotter.  "I can't take much more of this.  When are we gonna reach the seal?"

"Calm yourself, Zelos," Kratos growled, and Zelos noticed with piqued interest that the bastard had actually called him by name.  "The ruins are close, only a few minutes longer."

Zelos scowled.  "A few minutes is an eternity in this heat.  I'm about ready to just leave this dress behind."  The others had stripped themselves of their excess clothing and stuffed their jackets in their packs, allowing their bare skin to boil under the merciless sun.  They would all be red by the time their trek came to an end, but none cared enough to put the clothing back on.

"Don't complain, Zelos," Genis nagged, rolling his eyes at the Chosen.  "It just makes everything more miserable for us."

Zelos huffed and crossed his arms, forcing the stiff cotton fabric of the dress further up his arm in attempt to cool off.  It didn't help much, and he huffed again.  The white fabric showed clearly all evidence of his sweat, but it was nothing compared to the heat that seemed to penetrate his body and cook his insides.

"If you don't think about it," Regal stated matter-of-factly, eyebrows raised as he glanced down at Zelos, "the heat goes away."

Zelos glared at the taller man in response.  "Not everyone has that amount of control over their thought processes, but thanks for the suggestion."

From the corner of his eye, Zelos saw messy silver hair, droopy from a mixture of sweat and a lack of care for it, bobbing up and down as Raine ran ahead.  "There they are!" she called, pointing to a blurry dot on the horizon.  "The ruins!"  Zelos squinted, trying to make sense of the formless blob in the distance.  Though he couldn't make rhyme or reason of it, he trusted Raine, if only because believing her would get him out of the sun sooner, and so he hurried along with the half-elf, ignoring his weary body that threatened to collapse in on itself from overuse and dehydration.  He wished desperately that Colette had been trained better for constant mobility, rather than the very stationary fighting style she used, but there was nothing much he could do except make the body stronger through his own training.

The blur grew and took shape, creating fallen pillars and ancient stone from the fiery sand.  Raine ran toward it, spitting jargon and praise from her mouth as she admired the ruins once again.  "It's just as I remembered it!" she sang.  "Oh, what I wouldn't give to stay and study its history…"

"It really is beautiful," mumbled Genis under his breath, and Zelos glanced him, confused at his strangely alight face and the kid's uncharacteristic reaction.  Genis noticed Zelos's gaze and coughed, attempting to cover up his words, and he turned away to hide a flush not caused by the merciless sun.  He walked directly toward the oracle stone, refusing to meet anyone's eyes.  "Zelos, put your hand on this so we can get in."

Zelos lifted an eyebrow at the spectacle, but he complied.  The stone of the pedestal was cool under his hand, but it seemed to grow warm at his sudden touch.  He felt something within him, a faint tingle that seemed to connect him to the oracle stone, as if he were temporarily merging with it.  The feeling lasted only a moment, however, and the tie was severed as he heard a faint, echoing _click_.  The polycarbonate slab that covered the entrance slid back, grating against the stony encasement which held it in place.  Zelos put a hand to his ear to protect from the sound, and he was grateful when the wretched noise ceased within a few seconds.  There were a few seconds in which he stood still, simply staring at the uncovered entrance that beckoned him with its promising, cool interior.  It had worked.  He, Zelos Wilder, _not_ Colette, had unlocked the seal.

"I suppose there really is no question, then," Regal muttered behind him, shocking him out of his own moment of self-pity.  "Zelos really is the Chosen."

"I'm not!" he nearly screamed, but he took hold of his fears and anxieties quickly enough that he managed to sound merely angry, rather than frightened.  "I'm just a…a placeholder for Colette."

"You're still the Chosen of Tethe'alla," Genis grumbled with a roll of his eyes.  "It probably would have worked regardless."  Zelos chose to ignore the comment and instead walked into the black hole that was the entrance to the Triet Ruins.

"Aren't you guys coming?  We have two worlds to save, you know," he mocked, rushing them along so that the conversation about his status would cease.  It was hard enough to deal with the toil within his own mind, the nightmares about his memories of soulless Colette, the anxiety which tore him apart and told him to forget about world regeneration, about everyone in Sylvarant, and to find another way to Tethe'alla and to Origin, so that he wouldn't have to undergo the same horrors which his Sylvaranti counterpart had managed so selflessly.  He closed his eyes against the darkness, willing away that which waited for him—for the Chosen—at the altar.  He thought he had been done running away, but to break a habit was harder in practice than in speech.

"Regal."  Kratos looked toward the man as he followed Zelos into the darkness.  "Pull out your wings.  It will help to light our path."  Regal merely nodded and unfurled the glistening, blue wings, the dim hues dispersing the blackness which encompassed them and providing them assistance in seeing into the labyrinth that lay before them.

~*~

A small house within the forest sat silently, as if not even ghosts dared enter its imposing walls.  The felled trees had long been pulled away, leaving only rotting stumps and a lone axe, lodged within a trunk, as if there had been something which had pulled its user away from her duties.

No birds cried, no insects buzzed, no natural sounds came from the clearing around the house.  The silence warned all of the town's citizens away, promising nothing short of death if they even came near.

The silence was interrupted only when a girl, hazy eyes staring straight ahead, unblinking and dead, walked along the grassy area to her home, dragging a massive axe behind her.  She gave no attention to the other inhabitants of the town, and they stayed away from her, as if she were demonic in her own right.  And though, perhaps, she was, she knew nothing of the sort, and she continued to chop, chop the wood of the forest, cleaving the trees in two as she performed her sole duty.  Her gray eyes did not register the trees she so expertly cut, and she worked diligently and mechanically, as if she had been working for much longer than her physical appearance would indicate.

And the citizens would stare as she brought out the Sacred Wood, hauling it behind her with only one hand, a feat unimaginable for even the strongest of people.

And they stared, watching wearily as their absent neighbor dragged the wood, hardly stopping even when stones were thrown in her face, even when she was called "monster" by the young children who knew nothing of this girl, who knew only that she looked twelve and had not yet learned that she had looked twelve for sixteen years.

And they stared, pleading with the goddess that this soulless and ageless _monster_ would leave Ozette and never return, so that they may lead normal lives without fear of her.

And from behind the gray, dull eyes, there came a cry of frustration, of anger, of terror, as the body moved on its own to perform that which was asked of it, and though no one heard the cry, it was no less real than the soulless child that wandered Tethe'alla.

~*~

The altar seemed to pulse with power, an invisible fire rolling off of it in waves.  It engulfed the room and suffocated Zelos with its heat.  Sweating palms shook as he hesitantly put his hand on the hilt of his sword and walked toward the altar, the others closely behind.  Though he didn't know the exact details of that which happened during the trials, he was fully aware that it would not be painless.

They seemed to sense a battle, as they readied their weapons and assumed an offensive stance.  Kratos walked beside Zelos toward the altar while the others stayed back.  He kept his hand on the hilt of his new sword, a shining steel blade which he had bought in Triet when they stopped to rest for a night.  Zelos mimicked the other, unsure of what was to come but not wanting to be unprepared when it did.

As he approached the altar, the heat seemed to condense and form into a tangible entity before his eyes.  There was a swirling orb of fire, growing larger and hotter as it absorbed mana.  The orb became the silhouette of a beast, spikes jutting out from its head and a tail swishing behind, leaving small flames that condensed and comprised the larger beast's companions.  And suddenly, a raging fire burst forth from the monster, and when it opened its eyes, it let out a monstrous roar, staring Zelos in the eye as if it knew that he were the Chosen.

The Ktugach lunged directly at him, and he stumbled and fell to the ground in his attempt to evade the flaming beast.  Immediately, Kratos took action to draw its attention away from Zelos.  Nearly tangible mana surrounded the man as he thrust his new steel sword into the beast's tail, causing the Ktugach to howl and turn on him.  Using Kratos as a distraction, Zelos stood and gathered his bearings.

In only a short moment, he retrieved his sword from its sheath and immediately lunged forward, creating a shallow wound on its tail.  The blood that should have spurt forth was instantly cauterized by the fire that coated the Ktugach, and another bellow from the belly of the monster called upon its underlings.

The Ktugachlings, though much smaller and less fearsome, moved quickly and immediately began casting spells in tandem, as if they were one unit working together for a larger whole.  They floated above the ground as fiery red runes shifted and danced around them, their spells growing more and more powerful with each breath of mana that they took.  Zelos took this call to action and leapt for the tinier monsters, cutting one down in a single swipe of his blade.  Its spell was interrupted, but it was not dead, and it soon lifted itself up in a mechanical fashion, immediately forming a new circle of colorful mana beneath it.

"We could use some help, you know!"  Zelos threw the exclamation at the three in the back as he interrupted the second Ktugachling's spell.

"I cannot fight!" Regal called back, and Zelos cursed upon realization that the other man would only be burned in his attempts to help on the frontlines.  Though he could heal them and help to provide a strong defense, there was not enough power, and they would lose if they did not definitively turn the battle in their favor.

"Regal!" Kratos commanded as he dodged the swipe of the Ktugach's tail.  "Use magic!"  There came from the back of the altar room some muttering, but with the tremorous din around him and the action of the battle, Zelos could not understand the conversation.

Zelos redirected his focus to the battle, and he gathered his mana into a condensed form within him and allowed it to flow into his sword, and he released it in a swirl of blue as he leapt into the air, striking both of the Ktugachlings to interrupt them in their progress while he left the Ktugach in Kratos's capable hands.

The smaller beasts were relentless, however, and they showed no evidence of hindrance as they simply picked themselves off the ground yet again and began their spells anew.  Grunting in annoyance, Zelos thrust his sword into one and turned to the other, hoping to dispose of it while its counterpart was recovering.

With a shout, he ran at the casting Ktugachling, shoving his sword deep into the burning flesh.  The creature immediately retaliated with a small roar, and the flames enveloped his arm.  Zelos released his grip on his sword and stumbled back out of pure instinct, and with a curse, he noticed his weapon still lodged inside his opponent.

"Barrier!" Genis called from the back of the altar room, and Zelos felt the sting of fire wash away from his skin, replaced by a thin veil of mana which coated his person.  With the layer of protection around him, he was able to reach through the Ktugachling's fire and remove his searing hot sword, just in time for him to turn around and slash at the second Ktugachling.  His sword was hot in his hand, but Genis's spell granted him some immunity to the pain.  Zelos figured the kid was useful, after all.

The protection of the spell allowed him closer access to the monsters, and so he decided to go all out.  He ran directly at one of the beings, forcing his mana into the very tip of his sword.  As he thrust directly into the beast's exposed belly, there was a loud screech, and the first Ktugachling fell to the ground with a thud, motionless and dead.

With one of the three opponents taken care of, Zelos turned to his next victim.  The other Ktugachling was still casting, but now that he only had one to deal with, it would be easier to kill it.

There was a screech from the remaining Ktugachling, but this one did not sound pained, and shortly after its cry, three balls of fire shot off in random directions, one aiming directly for him.  Zelos lunged to the side, narrowly missing the attack, but did not falter on his way toward the monster.  He did, however, glance behind him to see Genis dodge another of the fireballs, and he was glad that no one seemed to have gotten hurt because of his negligence toward the beast.

He slashed his sword across the beast's stomach, enduring the heat for as long as he had to in order to kill it.  The underling had no way of retaliation, and so Zelos focused on simply attacking full-force until it was incapable of moving.  The bright flames that surrounded the Ktugachling were fading, as if it took effort to keep the monster alight, and the heat became more and more bearable as he continued.  With a final upward cut to its exposed and unprotected belly, the monster died.

He turned to aid Kratos in his battle with the larger beast just as he felt the protection of Genis's spell begin to dissipate.  He let his mind wander—though not too much—to his previous journey, recalling that Raine's spells typically lasted much longer, though Zelos reminded himself that Genis was still learning the healing artes, and it was to be expected that the kid wouldn't be able to keep the spell up for long.  At least it would allow for Genis to begin another spell—preferably a healing one.  Zelos looked down at his reddened hands, remembering with a grimace how much they hurt.  The singed sleeves of Colette's religious robe looked too destroyed to mend, and he noticed briefly new stains forming from the sweat that had become so normal to him in this desert.

He shook his mind clear of all distractions and leapt into the battle next to Kratos, who was vigorously slashing at the beast.  Zelos sent out a shockwave of mana toward the beast, and though it did little to deter it in its rampage, it allowed the Ktugach to recognize its new opponent.

Zelos glanced at Kratos, and he noticed the heavy breathing and obvious strain in the other's movements.  There was blood flowing freely down his face, and he charged forward with something of a limp.  His entire body was as red as Lloyd's jacket, and frankly, the man looked like a tomato.

To help ease Kratos's burden of fighting the Ktugach alone, Zelos ran ahead of him and immediately let loose a surge of power from his sword.  He wondered for a moment how much more powerful his attacks would get when he became an angel, but the thought of that dreadful word had him shaking his head to try and rid himself of it.

"Icicle!" a small voice called, and the beast was frozen in its tracks within a coating of ice.  It was melting fast, however, as the fire from Ktugach raged more powerfully than ever.  Both swordsmen took this brief opportunity to launch themselves at it, piercing their swords through the ice and into the burning flesh of the monster.  With each attack, the ice broke, and the beast bellowed in pain.  Zelos knew that they had to act quickly.

As Kratos and he attacked, the room seemed to grow dim and silent around them, with the tremorous noise around them becoming dull compared to the deep voice in the back of the room.  "Sacred powers…" the voice said in the monotone of a chant, and the mana in the room began to pulse in eager anticipation of what would come next.  Zelos found that he could not bring even his own mana under command, and so he lost the power to pierce Raine's ice.  He fell to the ground with a soft thud, waiting for the spell to finish.  Kratos looked unfazed, but he watched their opponent carefully as the ice melted from within.

The cry of "Judgment!" let loose a blinding beam of light, the mana gathering and solidifying above the Ktugach and releasing down upon the monster with a loud crash, the ice encasing it shattering as the light pierced the beast.

Where the attack would continue normally, Regal's was but one thick beam of light, concentrated on the Ktugach.  However, the spell defeated the monster, and the full attack was therefore unnecessary.  Zelos heaved a sigh of relief and fell over, using his sword to keep him standing.

"A bit late to the party, don't you think?" he smirked, concentrating on regaining his strength.

Light engulfed the beast, and it faded, its mana returned to the earth.  The bloody and mangled body disappeared, leaving no trace of the Ktugach and its underlings.  No sign of battle remained aside from the winded group that huddled around the altar, awaiting the arrival of the angel.

With the fire of the Ktugach extinguished, the room was dark, and the heat quickly died, mixing with the remnants of Raine's Icicle and creating a light mist around the room.

Genis and Regal ran to the two swordsmen, prepared to heal them now that they were able.  Zelos allowed himself to relax as Regal's glowing hands hovered above his skin, the soft green of healing magic penetrating his skin and mending his wounds.

"Chosen of Regeneration," a voice rang out, and Zelos jumped, startled at the sudden booming voice.  He looked around for the source and found that no one else seemed to have reacted to it.  He opened his mouth to ask about the noise, but the disembodied voice rang out once again.  "Offer your prayers at the altar, and you shall be reborn."

Remiel.  Zelos grimaced and, glancing back at Kratos for just a moment, started toward the altar in the middle of the room.  He had been trained as a child how to perform the duties of the Chosen, but that was before he knew truth, and he refused to bow to the angel that would take away his humanity.  Instead, he narrowed his eyes as he "prayed" to Remiel.

_Come on, you bastard,_ he called within his mind, playing along with the angel's mind games.  _Get down here and make me an angel_.

There was a brief flash of light in the room, and he looked upward just as a pillar of light rushed down to meet him, engulfing his body.  He unwillingly relinquished to the light the control over his body, and he felt the mana inside him condense and gather at his back, pooling around his spine.  He felt lightheaded as something exploded out of his skin, and for the briefest moment, Zelos blacked out.

The darkness gave way to a certain light, and Zelos found himself vulnerable to memories, though not all he identified as his own.  As pictures and sounds and smells danced within his mind, the familiar and the unfamiliar meshed and became one state of consciousness, until one particular memory surfaced.

" _Father, what's it like to die?_ " Suddenly, Zelos was young again, looking up at a blond man who had gone silent. No one present dared speak, and he didn't understand why. " _Father?_ "

" _Colette,_ " the man said kindly, a half-hearted smile lighting his features as he kneeled down to ruffle Zelos's—Colette's?—hair. " _Dying...is like sleeping. You fall asleep and have nice dreams of a better world, with no hunger or bad people, like the Desians._ "

" _Really?_ " Zelos asked, suddenly excited about the prospect of such a dream. " _The priests said that I would leave Sylvarant forever, and that I would look down at the world from heaven. But I don't understand. What did they mean by that?_ "

" _There's a castle among the clouds._ " Phaidra spoke then, her aged voice calming Zelos with visions of mystical lands in the sky. " _The castle is just for you, and it's waiting for you to go there and watch over us._ "

" _Can I bring you, grandmother?_ " he asked innocently, worried that he would be lonely if it were just him in a giant castle, so far away from everyone he loved. " _What about Lloyd? He would want to see my castle!_ "

The two adults shared a grim look as the memory faded, replaced soon by more vivid images of Iselia, of Phaidra and Frank, of priests and robes, of Genis and Raine, of Lloyd.

And through pain, Zelos was brought back to his own reality.  His senses returned to him: the scent of burnt flesh and sweat, the dim sound of chattering, the sight of the poorly lit altar room, illuminated only by a dim glow, originating from somewhere behind him.  He noticed first his own exhaustion, even though not a moment had seemed to pass.  A strange light-headedness followed, and then came the pain.  A constant, throbbing pain in his back where his mana had exploded out of him, forming the wings that marked him angelic.

Glistening mana spread out in thin tendrils that made up the tiny feathers, the light casting a faint glow on the smooth stones in the room.  Tiny sparkles of stray mana broke free and drifted to the ground with each flap of the wings, and everything about the structure seemed perfect.  There was nothing mechanically wrong with the wings, but the anomaly was glaringly obvious to all who had known Colette.

The condensed mana had taken form in a manner which looked nothing like Colette's perfectly rounded, pink wings.  Rather, the tendrils were thin and long, drooping down at the tips and creating a rather boxy appearance.  And they were orange.  For a moment, Zelos could only stare, watching as the wings beat against the stagnant air, somehow keeping him afloat.

His daze did not last long, however, and his attention was drawn to the altar from where the Ktgugach had come as a blinding light flooded the room.  The light dimmed and condensed, forming a familiar golden sphere that floated gently down from the top of the room.  Remiel burst forth from the light in a majestic display of arrogance.  A quick glance downward at Zelos was the only acknowledgment that Remiel gave him, but he noticed the mocking laughter in the angel's eyes that was obviously directed at him.

"You have done well, Chosen One," Remiel spoke, his words echoing throughout the room.  There was no obvious strain in the angel's voice, but the sound that resonated off the walls and clashed against Zelos's ears was almost too painful to bear, and he found himself clutching at his ears to protect against the sudden loudness.  Though his reaction was obvious, Remiel seemed not to notice, or, perhaps, seemed not to care.

Recognizing his own strange reaction to the noise, he forced his hands down to his sides in a futile attempt to save face.  He did not face the angel quite yet, instead looking back through the translucent, orange mana at his companions' grim faces, relieved to realize that the others could finally see and hear Remiel.

"I have granted you the power of the angels," he said, and Zelos flinched at the booming voice that seemed to get louder with every uttered syllable, "but such power carries great burden.  Endure, and continue the Regeneration."

"I will," Zelos choked out, desperately willing the man to leave.

His wishes came to fruition, and with no other words, Remiel's wings beat harder, pushing him upwards as he faded into a golden light.  Zelos watched as the orb condensed and disappeared, taking the angel back to Derris-Kharlan.

"It's really happening…" Zelos mumbled under his breath, accompanying a humorless chuckle.  Even his own voice seemed unnaturally loud to him, and it mixed with new sounds that he had never before noticed: the still air hitting his face, the tiny creak of his moving joints, the crunch of microscopic pebbles under his feet as he touched the ground and his wings faded.  The angel transformation really would be hell.

"Your wings…" Genis whispered in awe, eyes fixed on a point just behind Zelos.  "They're…"

"Perhaps it is a representation of the soul," Raine offered, her scrawny arms crossed across her chest.  She, too, seemed somewhat concerned, but her explanation appeared to satisfy her, and she sighed in complacence with the odd event.

"I mean, it's definitely not Colette's mana flowing in here," Zelos said in a lilting tone, gesturing at the body he was occupying.

"Even my wings have differences, though minor," Regal explained as he stepped forward, his wings protruding from his back.  Zelos found now that he could pick out the tiny details in the glistening mana, from the gradient hues to the thinner and more numerous tendrils drooping downward, as if being pulled by Gnome's power.

"They are different," Zelos said.  "I never noticed."

"I don't see anything different," Genis said with a huff.  "They just look like Kratos's wings."

"I, too, cannot see much difference," Kratos mused, "even though they once were mine."

Regal looked at Kratos, then back to his wings.  "It could be that such minor details can only be seen with the enhanced senses of the angels."  Zelos heard an almost inaudible sigh from Kratos, and despite the horrors of the angel transformation, he couldn't help but smirk.

"Speaking of senses…" Zelos continued, dropping the smirk and turning to Regal, "is everything super loud to you, too?"

"It can be unsettling," Regal confirmed with a nod.  "I don't mind it much, though."

Zelos grimaced.  "I don't see how.  All these noises are annoying as hell."

"Well, with any luck, it won't last long," said Kratos, walking smoothly toward the warp pad.  "The next seal is in the Thoda Geyser.  Let's go!"  Zelos watched as Kratos paused a moment, furled his eyebrows, and pursed his lips before whirling around to stand on the pad, warping back into the ruins.

"Y'know," Zelos mumbled under his breath, far too quietly for anyone but another angel to hear, "with that funky attitude of yours, I'd confuse you with the _real_ Lloyd."

"What a nice theory you've proposed," whispered Regal as he glided past him toward the warp.

Zelos quirked an eyebrow at the old man's cryptic message, but he quickly found that even that simple movement was too much for him, as he had begun to feel queasy.  Every step he took toward the pad rocked his stomach in unholy ways, and he was sure that he would vomit before he ever made it back to the ruins.

"You okay?" Genis asked.

Speaking was hard.  "Heh…you worried about me?"

"N-no!" the kid retorted immediately.  "But I _am_ worried about Colette.  You had better be taking care of her body."

His perfect vision had begun to cloud, dark spots swarming around in his sight, and though the loudness of the people around him never ceased, their voices became mere buzzing.  He reached out for something, anything to keep him upright, and he was grateful when he felt someone's hand.  The smallness of it led him to believe it was Raine.

The prepubescent buzzing of Raine's voice rang through his ears.  "It's the Angel Toxicosis.  I had nearly forgotten."

Speaking was harder.  "This happens…every time…?"

They seemed to ignore him, but perhaps his voice had barely reached an audible level.

Genis's buzz came through.  "Let's camp here tonight.  We can fill in Kratos and Regal when we get Zelos out of here."

Zelos felt his consciousness slip, and he desperately hoped that this sickness would pass by the time he woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot about it again, but it wasn't quite as long a wait. Hopefully the next chapter will come out soon here, as well.


End file.
